Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Are You Cut Out For Motherhood?

Truth be told, some days I'm not sure I'm cut out for motherhood. Today is one of those days. My (almost) four year-old likes to test our limits on a daily basis. Since she started school a couple weeks ago, she's been a bit of a nightmare at home. Because she has to be good (and quiet) at school, she lets loose when she gets home. She kicks her heels up by throwing a tantrum any time she doesn't get her way. My 15 month old and I are ready to move out. Temporarily, of course. If you're not sure you want to be a mother or not, here are some of the "qualities" you should possess for this role.

1) You have to love repetition! Think running laps around a track is boring? Telling a child not to climb on the furniture over and over is no picnic either. Or my personal favorite, "get your finger out of your nose!" (said while at a restaurant, a wedding, or any other equally embarrassing place).

2) You need pipes! Not the kind in your bathroom. I'm talking about big arm muscles. You have to lift strollers into and out of your car several times a day. Carry a baby around in one arm while using your other arm for various things. If you have one of those infant car seats that snap into your stroller, you'll need extra arm strength to carry said baby and car seat around. Those things are heavy! And god forbid stairs are involved. You'll need a body like Arnold Schwarzenegger to lift your baby in a car seat up stairs.

3) Patience like you've never had before! Those little bundles of joy will test you over and over again. You'll notice the "testing" around the time your baby has his or her first taste of cereal. After a few weeks the cereal will not be as exciting to the baby anymore and he'll chuck the bowl off his highchair. This will be amusing to him, especially if he gets a reaction from you, and this new skill will continue on until at least 18-months. Which brings me to my next quality.

4) The broom is mightier than yelling! You'll have to clean like you've never cleaned before (reread #1 about repetition for full effect). Breakfast - baby throws food on floor, chucks bowl, spoon etc., takes off bib and messes up clothes, rubs hands full of cereal all over her head (and creates the "Something About Mary" look), discovers spewing is more fun than swallowing etc. Lunch - more of same but now you've probably served foods that stain a bit more AND you've spent most of the morning getting the highchair, baby, utensils etc. cleaned up for lunch. Dinner - you've spent more time preparing the meal that will be thrown, mushed, squished and are a little less patient about the mess. You've also cleaned up the mess twice already. Snacks - in between meal messes (squishy banana is a favorite to clean up).

5) Spatial skills! If you don't drive a mini-van or large SUV, you'll need to figure out how to contract your stroller and fit it in the back of your car quickly. If you live in a cold or wet climate, you'll need to do this lightning fast. Good luck with that one. And forget about putting together baby toys, cribs, high chairs, strollers, installing car seats properly etc. Hire professionals for all those things. Avoid anything that says, "light assembly required", if you do not possess spatial and/or mechanical skills. I don't think there is a course to take for any of those skills but I could be wrong.

6) A bright and sunny disposition! We were thrilled when our little girl peed on the potty the first time around, and the second, and the third time. We threw a party. We were overjoyed. She's been potty-trained for almost two years now and she still expects a marching band every time she goes. It's hard to throw a party when she has to go in the middle of the night and wants mommy or daddy. Oh please let it be daddy tonight. Please. You get my drift.

Okay so that's all for now. If I haven't scared you enough to increase your birth control methods (try them all), you are one of those people that is brainwashed into thinking your child will be different. It's probably the hopeful grandma-to-be doing the brainwashing so there's nothing you can do about it. That is how the species continues on, I guess.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

"I don't like daddy!"

At some point in your little girl's life, usually around three or four, she will proclaim she doesn't like her daddy. She'll say he's not nice and scream at random times when he tries to do anything with her. At first you'll wonder if he's doing anything wrong. And then you'll realize it's just a little girl thing. We're going through this right now and his biggest crime has been giving her the blue cup when she really wanted the purple cup. Not that she told him she wanted the purple one. She just expects him to know. This is tough for most men. They haven't come close to figuring out their female partners, let alone this temperamental bundle of drama. I feel sorry for my husband. He'll remember "the incident" and take out the purple cup next time she asks for a drink. He'll lovingly hand it to her full of juice and she'll scream, "I wanted milk!". Who knew? Certainly not him. I would've asked her first but he only remembers the last drink interaction. The next time around he'll give her milk in a purple cup and she'll yell in his face, "I wanted WARM milk not COLD milk!". It's a losing situation for most guys. I think this is training for them to accept the guy she chooses later on in life. We really think the dads are upset at the thought of their little girls dating but they are really thinking, "poor sucker, he'll never figure her out". 

Since my daughter is only pushing four, I don't know how long this phase will last. It started at around three and is running its course right now. My favourite part is when she kisses up to him like 5 minutes after an outburst because she wants something. All memory of screaming, I don't like daddy seems to be erased from her expanding mind. She'll be getting ready for bed and say, "I love you daddy, you are the best daddy in the world". And after he's all warm and fuzzy inside, she'll ask him to stay in her room until she falls asleep. That can be anywhere from 5 minutes to 1 hour, depending on her mood. So daddy will agree and end up snoring on the chair beside her. Somehow this thunderous sound lulls her to sleep. While they're both in slumberland, all memory of the aforementioned screaming about daddy gets erased. And they start from scratch the next morning. The circle of life continues.  


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Friday, September 12, 2008

First Week of School Blues...

We did all the prep work over the summer to prepare our budding student for junior kindergarten. We practiced letter-writing, painting, songs, numbers and even "sold" the idea of being left with strangers for a couple hours. Okay so we didn't mention the whole stranger thing but it is true. So after months of preparation the big day came. We dressed her up in her school uniform, packed a nice snack, and went to meet the teacher. The teacher is the closest thing to a living saint. She's got grown up kids of her own, a calm friendly voice and demeanor and is extremely patient with the kids. In other words, she's not ME!  But when it came to dropping off our little tyke, she screamed, cried and grabbed my legs. Oh horror, I have one of THOSE kids. All the typical thoughts ran through my head. Have I actually been too good to her? Maybe I pay too much attention to her? 

After a couple days of the same dramatic scene, we figured our daughter was actually sick. She was coming down with a cold and cough and was understandably clingy. Once we realized what was happening, we took extra care of her and kept her home one day from school. After she recovered, we sent her back without any fanfare. Not even a "good-bye mommy". Nothing. No tears, no shouts of abandonment. It was dead silent. And when she was done with school, all she could say was, "mommy, don't give me anything drippy for a snack". I spilled the peaches the first day and the yoghurt the next." On the weekend we came up with a snack plan. I bake twice a week and she doesn't complain about the snacks. I don't know how I got stuck with all the work but you know, I aim to please and I'm competing with a living saint. Now if I could only find uniform-type clothing in toddler sizes. 


Saturday, August 30, 2008

The Olympic Meltdown (and I'm not talking about the kids)

I've finally recovered from watching the Olympics. Sure athletes train for four years plus for their moment in the spotlight but it's even harder to be an armchair-athlete especially when you've got kids. I don't know about you but I was getting up early to watch live coverage of the games and staying up really late to watch the next morning's events. I was so tired after a couple days I was having meltdowns instead of the kids. And to make matters worse, the kids were cranky from missing their favourite Tree House shows. I was trying hard to make Phelps and Bolt household names but somehow they still wanted Max, Ruby, Timothy, and that turtle Franklin. They were more impressed with Franklin counting by twos and tying his shoes than Phelps winning 8 gold medals. C'mon kids, Franklin doesn't even wear shoes! And why is he scared of the dark? He lives in a shell. 

On the day of the men's 100m final, we had promised to take the kids to an amusement park called Centreville. Instead we sat glued to the TV just as the men were approaching the started blocks. Next was the "set" position and then bang they were off. And so was our TV set. Our little 15-month old decided to play her favourite game. TV set off, watch family scream in horror, TV set on, family gets comfortable, TV set off... You get my drift. I'm tempted to turn off the TV set next time Franklin is about to do something exciting. But then I'd actually have to watch the show. I'd probably spend most of my time looking for any signs of shoe-wearing. Instead I just watched what coverage I could around bath time, bedtime, and frequent episodes of potty, teething pain, and bad dreams. 

My worst moment was when I got myself up earlier than normal (around 6:30 a.m.) to watch Canada play the U.S. in women's soccer only to see 1-0 flash up on the screen in front of a backdrop of rain. By the time the girls had woken up, I was in a foul mood! I think I had stayed up late the night before to watch Phelps break another world record. And then it had the audacity to rain in Beijing the next morning. I thought the Chinese could stop the rain? How come they could only do this for the opening ceremonies? After the rain delay I got back into the game. The game had me hooked at 1-1 and then strung me along until over-time when the U.S. scored the winning goal. Now I don't take my sports lightly. I was jumping off the couch in excitement and anticipation for most of the match. My lack of sleep and Canada's loss had me cranky for most of the day. My poor kids, they're probably happy the Olympics are over. Truthfully so am I. We are back to our morning routine of Tree House and a nutritious breakfast followed by rounds at the playground instead of the boxing ring. 

While Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt maybe inspiring a whole crop of kids to exercise, they turned yours truly into a couch potato (and then some) for a couple of weeks. It's less than 2 years before the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Games begin. I've got that amount of time to get myself into shape before my next couchfest. And to get a wall-mounted plasma TV. I've got to stop my children from turning the TV off at crucial moments. Like Canada - U.S tied in a gold medal hockey game. Yikes, I can already feel the stress. 

Thursday, July 17, 2008

What to Expect When You're...

Recently I found out a former coworker is pregnant. When women who already have babies hear about other women carrying babies, they want to spill their guts to these poor souls. Bring on the unwanted advice! So here it is, unsolicited & unedited. 

To the pregnant woman, you need to buy the mother of all pregnancy books, "What To Expect When You're Expecting" or as my mid-wife calls it, "What To Expect When You're Paranoid". And yes, I was paranoid while pregnant with my first and second babies. Who wouldn't be? It's not like billions of women have had babies throughout the centuries. So if you have a copy of said book and you are, admittedly, paranoid, you need to avoid the section in the back entitled "When Things Go Wrong". This section is not for you. You have already imagined the worst and don't need reinforcement. For instance, I was over the proverbial hill when I had my second baby (over 35) and was asked if I wanted to have an amniocentesis.  The 'amnio' is for people who used old and crusty eggs to conceive. The procedure involves sticking a rather long needle into your womb and extracting some of the amniotic fluid. When I first considered this test I thought to myself, "there is a certain amount of fluid in my womb for a reason & maybe I need ALL of it. What will happen if they take some out? Will the little needle hole turn into a bigger hole & all the fluid & the baby will leak out?" Needless to say, I declined this test. I also declined every test that had a high false positive result. So what tests were performed, you ask?

 
I had a lot of blood tests including the HIV test. I knew I didn't have HIV but being paranoid I wondered what would happen if it said "declined test" on my chart. I pictured something going wrong and the doctor looking at my chart and stopping to put on gloves or worse, a bio-hazard suit, before helping me and the baby out. Clearly paranoid, I know. So I had the HIV test twice. Once for my first pregnancy and once for my second. Another test I had is the glucose test. This is where you drink a sugary drink and then have blood extracted to see if your blood sugar is within a safe range. Unfortunately for me I decided to eat breakfast too close to the test.  I had peanut butter and jam on toast and a banana before this test. And then I flunked it. When you flunk this test, they call you right away to schedule a follow up three-hour fasting test. This was not good for me. I was riddled with worry from the time I heard my first results until I got my second test results back. This was 4 days but it seemed like a century. I'm also not very good at fasting. Fasting to me is not snacking in between meals. This was a difficult time. I ended up not having gestational diabetes, or anything equally as worrisome, but I did think if anything was going to give me gestational diabetes, it was the sugary drink pregnant women have to drink for the test. That drink is worse than the McDonald's orange soda I remember having in the Happy Meal when I was a kid. Now you can at least get apple juice or some other fruit juice. Maybe someday pregnant women will have a choice of sugary products for the glucose tolerance test. Maybe even chocolate or better still, a chocolate muffin. Muffins are a pregnant woman's friend. Muffins are just glorified cupcakes but for some reason, they can be eaten guilt free. But I digress.

Most of us really look forward to the ultrasound test to get a sneak peak at our little one. If you aren't considered high-risk, you will get one of these tests at around 4 months and will not need one again unless your health care practitioner has concerns or needs a weight estimate. You'll get print outs of your growing baby and can show them off to all your friends and family. At this time you can find out the sex of the baby, if you choose. For the people that are able to find the image in those 3D Halogram pictures, you may even be able to figure out the sex yourself. Both my babies were doing some sort of gymnastics moves so we really couldn't see much except maybe a head and some feet. We took the practitioners word that all the necessary parts were present.

And present they were, especially the vocal chords. So after surviving more than 9 months of utter paranoia, we became the proud owners of not one but two baby girls (two years apart, of course). Neither of which came with instruction manuals. I'd tell you to pick up the book, "What To Expect In the First Year" but, truthfully, we didn't read it and after a while, your baby will stand on it to reach all your breakables. So next week I will cover the topic "What To Expect In the First Year When You're Paranoid". Not that there's anything wrong with being paranoid. 

Monday, July 14, 2008

Itching for a Jock...

hockey stick - check
baseball bat & ball - check
soccer ball - check
football - check
running shoes - check
mini golf clubs - check
skates - check
bike - check

Now that you've got all the gear, you just need a little tyke to use them. And use them with great skill, right? You know who you are! You sit on the couch & watch TV but expect your kid to be a little Lance Armstrong, Tiger Woods or Serena Williams (when she's fit & not modeling, of course). I've heard lots of couch-potato parents talk about how they want their kid to be an athlete. I even had one parent ask me to watch their 6 year-old son run because she thought he was really fast because get this, he could beat her in a race. I had to take a good, hard look at this mother because I've seen Oprah Winfrey run and I think Oprah would kick her butt in a sprint. Especially to the buffet table. Sorry Oprah but it's true. You may have run a marathon but you're not very fast. Oh, I digress. I can talk about Oprah all day. So how do we get our kids to exercise and hopefully enjoy a couple of sports?

For starters, we should encourage our kids to be active. And if they excel at a particular sport later on, then good for them. Remember this is about your kids, not about you. I suggest every kid, no matter what their age, play everyday. By "play", I don't mean dropping your kids off at soccer, gymnastics or swim practice and then head to Timmy's. I mean taking them to the playground & playing with them. You could throw a frisbee around, kick a soccer ball, go to a leisure swim. You get the idea. If you have an older child you could go for a jog and have them ride their bike beside you. Or bike ride together. The key is to exercise WITH them. You know, lead by example and make exercise fun and not competitive. 

Speaking of competitive, fairly recently I read an article about a soccer league for 8 or 9 year-olds where goals & final scores are not recorded. The kids have fun running around & kicking the ball, the parents don't use four-letter words during the game, and the refs don't need to hire bodyguards. This sounds like a win-win-win situation to me, especially for the refs. What is really interesting about this league is the kids are concentrating more on the skill aspect of soccer and not the outcome of the game. This is setting them up to be, dare I say, competitive soccer players. In the future when they choose, of course. Not when mommy and daddy are ready. If this league churns out some pro players than watch other sports try the same thing. Can you imagine baseball without RBIs? Figure-skating without judges and Jeff Gillooly? Gymnastics without a ten? 

Maybe a lot more kids would try the more competitive sports with the scoreless type of model. It is, after all, more inclusive. And for the hyper-competitive parents, their kid would still learn the necessary skills to be a super-athlete later on. So tee up, I'm coming over for play time with my golf clubs & my three year-old. You'd better wear a helmet. I'll bring the Timmy's. 

If you'd like to hire a personal trainer to get yourself into shape and be a role-model for your kids, I highly recommend www.livfit.com [editor's note: If you want to set an example for your child it's better to exercise with or in front of your child vs. going to a gym by yourself].

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Update from the Trenches...

Some of you have waited with bated breath to find out if we got our double Chariot. I am very happy to report we did indeed secure one of those beauties from craigslist and we love it. I have to admit though, I still don't entirely know how to fold it down. And I haven't tried popping off the wheels even once. The task looks a little daunting and I have played the "but I gave birth to the girls" card every time the deed had to be done. Listen I'm not proud but that's what happens when you have to learn how to fold down four different types of strollers in one year. I'm also mechanically challenged.  But because of the Chariot I am walking/jogging for an hour three times a week and enjoying it very much. I think ALL Olympic athletes should train using a double Chariot (especially those bob-sledding types). Once you run or jog without pushing two kids, you'll feel like Donovan Bailey sprinting to glory. It's that easy. I kid not. 

The second update is about the "pee in the bottle" post. I am happy to report we got our sample and it was pretty darn easy. Our little monster got up the morning of my birthday, bellowed she had to pee, and asked specifically for the sucker known as "mummy". I thought the whole spiel about internal organs worked on her. Not at all. She was excited about peeing on my hands while I tried to "catch" her pee (sounds like material for a Japanese game show, eh?). The samples are safely in the fridge and awaiting the opening of the lab tomorrow morning. Thanks for asking. 

Friday, June 27, 2008

Message in a Bottle...

Today I had to try and get my 3.5 year-old fusspot to pee in a bottle. I don't wish this task on anybody. I'd rather try and milk a raging bull. At least you can reason with a bull. The whole task went downhill when she announced she had to go potty and her daddy yelled (more like shrieked) from upstairs, "GO GET THE BOTTLE, SHE HAS TO PEE! HURRY UP!!!!!. Needless to say, she was screaming by the time I made it upstairs with the bottle. My poor husband has no prior experience dealing with little girls. He didn't have a plan in place or anything. He thought he could just spring the whole idea of peeing in a bottle on her and still have her cooperate. Boy, was he wrong!

You see my husband was an athlete and he thought he could tell her a story about how he had to pee in a bottle in front of somebody to get drug-tested. Talk about trauma for a little girl. She plugs her ears in public washrooms because the flush is "too loud!". And her daddy thought a good ol' drug-testing story would do the trick. I'm booking the therapist now.

So tomorrow, on my birthday, I have to get her to do "the deed" and get the sample to the lab. I used my motherly charm to get her to at least agree, in principle, to the concept of me holding a bottle under her while she pees. I even told her she could pee all over my hand & she thought that was funny. But that was today, tomorrow is a whole other day. Sometimes her brain resets itself at night and she has no recollection of the agreement we made the night before. Translation: I'm expecting more screaming tomorrow.

As for my motherly charm, I told her a lab technician would look at her pee under a big microscope (she kept saying telescope but that's okay, it is sort of "moon" related). She thought it was funny someone actually had a job to look at pee under a microscope. And then she seriously asked me what they would be looking for. How the heck should I know, was my first thought. And then I remembered my official title: CEO of the Why Question Answerer. So I launched into this whole spiel about internal organs, specifically the kidneys, lungs, liver etc. She seemed happy enough after that but only time will tell.

Wish me happy birthday tomorrow and don't judge me if I bribe her with a birthday cupcake or two. It's almost midnight and I still haven't figured out how to get the pee in the bottle. I'm off to google land.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

The Skinny Gene...

The Globe and Mail had an interesting article on baby development this week. Apparently the growth charts we use to chart development in Canada are different from the World Health Organization's charts. So the "curve", as doctor's refer to it, is different in Canada and the United States. Kids that are considered normal on our charts are actually considered overweight or obese on the WHO charts. As a parent of a kid in the low percentile (charting under 25% for height and weight) as a one year-old and now is completely off the chart as a 3 year-old, I find this pretty promising. You see, I just thought my skinny gene kicked in and my dear girl would end up being a distance runner. Now I can renew hope of her becoming a tennis star.  

This charting is serious business for some parents. They brag about little Johnny being in the 95th percentile for height and weight. I want to scream at them, "it's not his score on the bar exam, people!". Now the head measurement is another story. If little Johnny's cranium was in the 95th percentile, that might tell us he has a big brain in there somewhere. I know, I know, it could be just telling us his head is just a melon on a toothpick. Check out this scene from "So, I Married an Axe Murderer" on YouTube. You'll know what I mean. Heid move! (said with Scottish accent). 

Okay back to baby development. So if your kid is off the charts on the low-end, the pediatrician is supposed to ask if he or she is meeting their milestones and if not, they send them for testing. When I heard this whole "milestone" thing, I had to laugh. Does sarcasm at three count as a milestone? I'm not too sure. She's got some really good dance moves and some not so good ones. Is it because she's a light weight? Thank goodness the WHO chart has an answer for all this. Breast-fed babies usually drop in weight around 6 - 9 months and stay slimmer than the formula-fed babies. I don't know what I was fed as a kid but I had to turn 30 before I made it over the 100 lb barrier. And yes, it is a barrier for some of us (like the 4 minute mile). Nowhere in all this chart stuff do they mention the parents' genes. I know what happened to my kid. My skinny gene kicked in and she's going to end up sitting in the front row in all her school pictures. Her friends will give her nicknames like "skeletor" and "skelly". She'll put back more food than a Japanese sumo wrestling champion in one sitting and still end up with a figure like a super model (except without the height). 

In the end we all turn into our parents anyways and there's not a lot we can do about it. I made my mother's tuna casserole a few weeks ago and I'm coping well. 

In all seriousness, if you have a 6 to 12 month year-old baby and you want to learn how to make your own baby food, avoid feeding him or her junk food, find out what foods to start with etc. try "Yummy in My Tummy" by the Liandrea dynamic duo. They are nice people (with big brains).


Sunday, June 8, 2008

Bringing Monster Home...

I had my first baby in 2004 and like many new mothers, I had great expectations of what motherhood would be like. I figured, naively, I would nurse my baby for at least a year, feed her organic pureed baby food at exactly 6 months, and have her sleep on her own in her crib every night by just putting her down. Even though my husband and I were both terrible sleepers as children, I still thought life would be different for our little angel.

Our little angel is now 3.5 years old and if you turn your computer off and listen very carefully, you should be able to hear her screaming. Even if you live in outer Mongolia. She's done brushing her teeth and is getting ready for bed. Bedtime has been a challenge since she came out of the womb. Even the nurses at the hospital knew something was different about this little, dare I say, monster. They kept referring to her as an "alert" baby. We didn't know what that meant until a few days after we brought her home. Alert = screams her head off

No, she didn't have colic. She had something worse. It's called "curiosity". We realized something was up with her when she was a couple months old and she was screaming her head off in her crib one night. It had just snowed and the snow plows were clearing up our street. We thought maybe the noise woke her up and it did but that's not why she was crying. She wanted to SEE what was making the noise. And from that day on we realized it was easier to show her what was making the noise instead of trying to put her back to sleep for several hours (while enduring the aforementioned screaming).

Needless to say, we've made some mistakes along the way. Sometimes I wish we could have kidnapped our midwife and forced her to live with us. No judge with kids would have put us away for that one. At least not one that heard the screaming. I stumbled upon a little gem a few months ago that would have helped us greatly. It's like having a midwife in your own home (except without the kidnapping charges). It's a parenting DVD called "Bringing Baby Home". Notice how they use the word "baby" and not "monster". Anyways, it's from a production company (read: two moms with 6 kids between them) called "Liandrea". It's like a prenatal class that never stops giving (if you put it in constant loop on your DVD player). Try it, you may end up slightly better off, if not much better off, than me.