Really, there shouldn't be this much action in one week. Its too much for any sane person to handle, so for a slightly less than stable, teetering on the edge of getting by Amy, its REALLY too much.
First, we had my brother come for a visit. Well, we were actually just a stop off on the way home, but whatever. It was fun, we took them fishing, which meant I got to sit by the river in my lawn chair and drink beer on a sunny afternoon. Perfect. Tyler caught a fish, we had a fire and cooked hot dogs for dinner, Maizey played in the sand for the first time and LOVED it and sat in front of a fire for the first time and also LOVED that. Our little camper! She did manage to eat a little sand, not by the hand full or anything, so I wasn't too concerned.
playing with uncle tyler
it was alteast 25 pounds
sandy feet
tastes so good
looking up the valley
first hot dog roast and fire for Missy
Next, we bought new bedroom furniture. A bedroom suite, if you will. This only caused me slight anxiety (since I HATE spending money and go through serious post-purchase depression, or whatever the hell that's called... buyers remorse I think.) I came to terms with it when I slept in my super high, super cool bed. And I realized... Holy crap, we are really adults now, with grown-up furniture. Its time to start smoking cigars, drinking scotch and growing mustaches. Well one of us anyways.
grown up bed
Then, Maizey got stung (or is it bit?) by a WASP. While she was napping in her bed. She woke up screaming. I went to see what was wrong, when I picked her up I saw a gigantic freaking wasp walking around her head, so we ran out of her room. It chased us, hissing and laughing. I couldn't find the sting (bite?), nor could I get her to quit crying. I finally got her calmed down with momma goods (you know what I mean) when Paola showed up. When I finished feeding her, and sat her up, we found the affected area. Her poor little hand looked like one of those foam fingers you get at a basketball game, but this one didn't say 'Go JAYS'. No, this one screamed 'I got bit by a wasp and am in a lot of pain'. Her finger looked like a little sausage and was bright red. Luckily P knew what to do, we washed it off, and put some ice on it. She handled it like a champ and just really wanted to play with Liam.
playing with Liam
note Maizeys fat hand
No feeling sorry for this kid. The little bastard wasp also bit (stung) Paola when she tried to kill it. She also handled it like a champ, I told her I now knew what to do, I could clean and ice it for her if she wanted. She declined. Stings are a little concerning for a new mom... you just don't know if your kid is going to be allergic, and apparently sometimes the symptoms of an allergic reaction don't even show up after the first stinging. So next time, she could totally react. Hopefully P is around that time too. Since I haven't found the time to read my book, I wont have any idea what to do. Maizey did seem to be reacting later that evening, pulling her ears, shaking her head, crying and whining. So I called the nurses line just to see what they said. The nurse told me that it sounded like Maizey was fine, but that they do recommend taking a baby under a year old to the doctor THAT DAY just to make sure. I decided to take her advice. Of course it was past clinic hours, so I had to take her to Emergency. The doctor there was awesome, he said she was fine and just gave us the dose for benadryl. She slept all night after that and the next morning her finger looked a lot better. Its fine now. Whew.
Lastly, we went and looked at a new house on Saturday. I wont get into all the long and slightly boring to the average person, details. But we love it, it is just the shell of a house, it needs to be completely finished inside and is going to take a ton of money to do so. Hmmm, a ton of money is something we don't happen to have. The house is on the brink of foreclosure and the bank is owed a lot of money still. So put those two things together and it doesn't exactly add up to steal of the century. But it does add up to a dream home in a perfect location. There are so many 'if's' that go along with this. Its pretty much a timing game, as far as we can tell. There are two other families (that we know of) that have put their homes up for sale, in the hopes of selling then buying this house. The bank is not accepting any offers with conditions. Its a lot of money. It has to be fast. I would have to sell my house. The one that we have put every single penny we have ever had into fixing up and making it our own. The one that we painstakingly made into a cute little house with character. The one that my blood, sweat and tears have been poured into for the last six years. Our home. Our happy little home. Maizeys first home. I know I have to accept that we cant live here forever, that we have basically grown as big as we can before we outgrow it. But that's hard for someone like me, who kept a pair of sandals that I bought for myself in GRADE EIGHT!!! for almost ten years after they became un-wearable, because I couldn't stand the thought of throwing them in the garbage, to go rot in a land fill. I finally got Brian to do it just last year. That's how attached I was to a pair of stupid sandals, just imagine how attached I am to this house. Its hard to accept those things. I keep telling myself that's its not the house, its the people in it that make it happy. That we will make any house a home. But this all has to happen so fast that I am having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I WANT a bigger house, with more yard and trees close by. I WANT to have a storage room and an en suite. I just didn't ever think it would actually happen. Tomorrow, we go to the bank. I guess we'll see what they say. This dream may be dead tomorrow. Hard to say.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
And...Breathe
I casually opened the last Coors Light out of the fridge when I sat down to write this. I have to admit, nothing has tasted better today.
Today was one of those, sporting the braid as I didn't get a chance to take a shower, days. No big deal. I can rock the braid like nobodies business. For some reason, I just didn't get around to it today.
Instead I found some new music to add to my grooveshark, so I cranked it this afternoon while we packed away little clothes. Yes, that is correct, for the second time in Maizeys life, I have to pack things away. I find something kinda sad about packing away little clothes... I always think to myself - what if I don't remember some of the things we did when she wore that cute little dress (which would be hard, as she has worn very few cute little dresses in her day... but when she did - gahhhh SO CUTE!).... and - ohhhh I realllllly wanted Grandpa to see her in that little shirt.... or even just pulling things out to put them on, and remembering the last time she wore it, and smiling at that little memory. It kills me. Kills me. The thought of putting these boxes filled with the last nine months, into the attic, kills me. Seeing the hat she wore for the first time, tucked beside her hospital booties and sleeper. Kills me. Now. Now time has started to go too fast. I cant keep up. She is learning and changing and growing so fast. While she was having a bath the other night, I asked her what a duck says. She replied with a 'bap bap bap bap'. Sounded an awful lot like the 'quack quack quack quack' I say to her every bath time. She follows Corbin around. She gave him kisses tonight. Don't tell her dad. She feeds herself everything. She shakes her head no when I ask her questions and throws things away when she doesn't want them anymore. She is pulling herself up on anything she can get her hands on, we even had to lower her crib to the lowest level. I was SURE we wouldn't need to do that until she was atleast six. Gahhh. When we say 'come here, into the living room' ... she does. When I take something away and hide it under a blanket, she looks for it. I cant get away with anything. I tell her my Crackberry is worth more than my car, but she doesn't seem to care, she wants to play with it anyways. And by play, I mean suck on and throw. She fell out of the bumbo the other day, twice, while trying to reach for things. Now I cant leave her unattended on the kitchen table in it. Just kidding, I never did that anyways.
I'm taking it all in... and I really am loving every minute we have together...but sometimes, I need to catch my breath. I need to sit down with my old friend, the Silver Bullet, and think about it all. To replay those moments of first words and actions, first understandings, first laughs and crys and all the rest of the firsts. Every single one of them. Tuck them into the little pocket of my brain that remembers every single thing that has ever happened to me, in my entire life. Into a place where they are safe. Where can I find them on a moments notice. Only then, can I relax. Knowing that I will remember all the cute dress moments and that I can always show Grandpa her million other cute shirts (or her first pair of Ropers that he is going to love). And knowing that these new little clothes will make memories too. Good ones, with sprinklers and ice-cream cones and swings. Ones that will soon need to be put away too, in that little pocket and saved for rainy days. So now they are put away, along with the little clothes. And now, I can start to think about taking a shower. Good thing I sat down tonight to think about all of this... my friends may not want to be around me after another day of no shower.
me and my girl
Today was one of those, sporting the braid as I didn't get a chance to take a shower, days. No big deal. I can rock the braid like nobodies business. For some reason, I just didn't get around to it today.
Instead I found some new music to add to my grooveshark, so I cranked it this afternoon while we packed away little clothes. Yes, that is correct, for the second time in Maizeys life, I have to pack things away. I find something kinda sad about packing away little clothes... I always think to myself - what if I don't remember some of the things we did when she wore that cute little dress (which would be hard, as she has worn very few cute little dresses in her day... but when she did - gahhhh SO CUTE!).... and - ohhhh I realllllly wanted Grandpa to see her in that little shirt.... or even just pulling things out to put them on, and remembering the last time she wore it, and smiling at that little memory. It kills me. Kills me. The thought of putting these boxes filled with the last nine months, into the attic, kills me. Seeing the hat she wore for the first time, tucked beside her hospital booties and sleeper. Kills me. Now. Now time has started to go too fast. I cant keep up. She is learning and changing and growing so fast. While she was having a bath the other night, I asked her what a duck says. She replied with a 'bap bap bap bap'. Sounded an awful lot like the 'quack quack quack quack' I say to her every bath time. She follows Corbin around. She gave him kisses tonight. Don't tell her dad. She feeds herself everything. She shakes her head no when I ask her questions and throws things away when she doesn't want them anymore. She is pulling herself up on anything she can get her hands on, we even had to lower her crib to the lowest level. I was SURE we wouldn't need to do that until she was atleast six. Gahhh. When we say 'come here, into the living room' ... she does. When I take something away and hide it under a blanket, she looks for it. I cant get away with anything. I tell her my Crackberry is worth more than my car, but she doesn't seem to care, she wants to play with it anyways. And by play, I mean suck on and throw. She fell out of the bumbo the other day, twice, while trying to reach for things. Now I cant leave her unattended on the kitchen table in it. Just kidding, I never did that anyways.
I'm taking it all in... and I really am loving every minute we have together...but sometimes, I need to catch my breath. I need to sit down with my old friend, the Silver Bullet, and think about it all. To replay those moments of first words and actions, first understandings, first laughs and crys and all the rest of the firsts. Every single one of them. Tuck them into the little pocket of my brain that remembers every single thing that has ever happened to me, in my entire life. Into a place where they are safe. Where can I find them on a moments notice. Only then, can I relax. Knowing that I will remember all the cute dress moments and that I can always show Grandpa her million other cute shirts (or her first pair of Ropers that he is going to love). And knowing that these new little clothes will make memories too. Good ones, with sprinklers and ice-cream cones and swings. Ones that will soon need to be put away too, in that little pocket and saved for rainy days. So now they are put away, along with the little clothes. And now, I can start to think about taking a shower. Good thing I sat down tonight to think about all of this... my friends may not want to be around me after another day of no shower.
me and my girl
Sunday, May 23, 2010
One Good One
*Note: This is a technical post. Pretty much boring besides the cute picture.
My Ang has a really nice camera and since she is in the process of learning how to use it to its full potential, I thought I would join her on the journey. I am *hoping* that I too, will one day soon have a beauty of a camera to play with. When there are such perfect little people around to practice taking pictures of, it is really fun! I also have some fancy editing software at my fingertips, and I thought I should really learn how to use it, so between the learning of the picture taking and the learning of the make the pictures look cool software, I have come up with ONE PERFECT picture! FINALLY.
Its been a busy last few days.... but now...
- The Garden is ready to be planted
- The lawn is perfectly manicured
-Missys room is *almost* ready for the makeover
-And my house is CLEAN. Like, actually clean. Except of course, my bedroom... and the laundry room. and the stairs. and the porch. OK, so its halfway clean in all the house, very clean in half the house. Finally. Its about time. Brian is such a slacker.
ANDDDDDD.... I got to go out on Friday night. Like OUT out. Jane and I went out for 'just a drink' that turned into a whole bottle when we got there, that turned into one more while we annihilate the dance floor for awhile. It was SO fun and SO needed. I cant even remember the last time I went dancing and it felt great! We were showing up *ahem* or at least on par with the 30th Grad Reunion that was there... man could some of those mama's tear it up!!! Fun was had by both of us, and we have vowed not to wait this long to do it again. Not party like we're rockstars or anything, just go out and have FUN! All while keeping in mind that its really not fun to have to wake up with a baby when you have a hangover (I am not speaking from experience, but I have heard...for reals.). We can be responsible and still have fun. I think. Heh.
My Ang has a really nice camera and since she is in the process of learning how to use it to its full potential, I thought I would join her on the journey. I am *hoping* that I too, will one day soon have a beauty of a camera to play with. When there are such perfect little people around to practice taking pictures of, it is really fun! I also have some fancy editing software at my fingertips, and I thought I should really learn how to use it, so between the learning of the picture taking and the learning of the make the pictures look cool software, I have come up with ONE PERFECT picture! FINALLY.
Its been a busy last few days.... but now...
- The Garden is ready to be planted
- The lawn is perfectly manicured
-Missys room is *almost* ready for the makeover
-And my house is CLEAN. Like, actually clean. Except of course, my bedroom... and the laundry room. and the stairs. and the porch. OK, so its halfway clean in all the house, very clean in half the house. Finally. Its about time. Brian is such a slacker.
ANDDDDDD.... I got to go out on Friday night. Like OUT out. Jane and I went out for 'just a drink' that turned into a whole bottle when we got there, that turned into one more while we annihilate the dance floor for awhile. It was SO fun and SO needed. I cant even remember the last time I went dancing and it felt great! We were showing up *ahem* or at least on par with the 30th Grad Reunion that was there... man could some of those mama's tear it up!!! Fun was had by both of us, and we have vowed not to wait this long to do it again. Not party like we're rockstars or anything, just go out and have FUN! All while keeping in mind that its really not fun to have to wake up with a baby when you have a hangover (I am not speaking from experience, but I have heard...for reals.). We can be responsible and still have fun. I think. Heh.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Un-Organizational Skills
Sometimes good things come of being un-organized. Just saying.
Since Maizey was born, we started taking a bazillion more pictures. Every time we would load them onto the computer we would put them into a folder named "Maizey". Brilliant, I know. Over the last nine months that folder has started to get huge. I would look for certain pictures and not be able to find them because they all started to blend together. I couldn't even go by date, because every time I had to charge the battery on the camera, I had to take it out, and that would reset the date. Rather than setting it to the proper date when I put the battery back in, I would skip past it, because I was too lazy to figure out how to do it. Needless to say I have a few hundred photos dated January 2004. LAME. So I decided to put organize them into separate folders for each month and/or occasion. This turned into a huge, time consuming affair... a frustrated at technology and its lack of brains Amy and an annoyed about hearing about how stupid the stupid computer is Brian. I'm not done, probably never will be. BUT I did come across some real gems while at it.
For example...our first family photo...
And how she used to sleep...
And how she got drunk at Christmas...
Then sobered up for the modeling show...
Or the time she tried to apply purple lipstick by herself...
And my personal favorite... the one where I sneakily took a video of Brian playing with her (try to ignore the semi-creepy laugh he does... just focus on the fact that she loves it)...
So if that's what I get for being un-organized... finding something that makes me smile... then I will take it!
Since Maizey was born, we started taking a bazillion more pictures. Every time we would load them onto the computer we would put them into a folder named "Maizey". Brilliant, I know. Over the last nine months that folder has started to get huge. I would look for certain pictures and not be able to find them because they all started to blend together. I couldn't even go by date, because every time I had to charge the battery on the camera, I had to take it out, and that would reset the date. Rather than setting it to the proper date when I put the battery back in, I would skip past it, because I was too lazy to figure out how to do it. Needless to say I have a few hundred photos dated January 2004. LAME. So I decided to put organize them into separate folders for each month and/or occasion. This turned into a huge, time consuming affair... a frustrated at technology and its lack of brains Amy and an annoyed about hearing about how stupid the stupid computer is Brian. I'm not done, probably never will be. BUT I did come across some real gems while at it.
For example...our first family photo...
And how she used to sleep...
And how she got drunk at Christmas...
Then sobered up for the modeling show...
Or the time she tried to apply purple lipstick by herself...
And my personal favorite... the one where I sneakily took a video of Brian playing with her (try to ignore the semi-creepy laugh he does... just focus on the fact that she loves it)...
So if that's what I get for being un-organized... finding something that makes me smile... then I will take it!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Its All In A Day (Or Two's) Work
Just like I knew she would, my mom *mostly* got my house whipped into shape. Although, I think I may be exuding some kind of laziness vibe, because whenever people are around me, all they want to do is sit around and drink coffee. So, with that being said - even though we WANTED to just sit around and drink coffee, we did get a ton of work done. While Grannie looked after Maizey, Brian got the lawn mowed and I got the garden 85%-ish weeded (I hate quack grass)... I can see why they say gardening is such a good workout... I could hardly walk today. So this morning we opted for the inside work instead (to give my poor legs, arms and fingers a break)... I worked on discarding things I have been collecting but don't want, and mom cooked. ALL DAY. She made soup, and buns stuffed with hamburger and regular buns and cinnamon buns. She cleaned. And she helped me fill picture frames and hang pictures that have been leaning against the walls, on the floor for MONTHS (maybe even years) now. My house is slowly staring to look a little less cluttered (a dream since Maizey came along). There's still a lot of work to do, but we are getting there.
Here are some before and after photos...
gahhh... one big mess
ahhhh... nice and clean
and so nice and hung...
maybe next time he wont wait so long to mow...
so nice and freshly cut
that is a lot of stinkin' weeds...
painstakingly pulled...
So there you have it... a days work. I forgot what it was like to work. Its hard. Now excuse me while I go eat *some* cinnamon buns.
Here are some before and after photos...
gahhh... one big mess
ahhhh... nice and clean
and so nice and hung...
maybe next time he wont wait so long to mow...
so nice and freshly cut
that is a lot of stinkin' weeds...
painstakingly pulled...
So there you have it... a days work. I forgot what it was like to work. Its hard. Now excuse me while I go eat *some* cinnamon buns.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Pushing It Out
I was weak this week.
Not physically weak.
Not mentally weak.
Just weak.
Everyday I had good intentions.
To clean the house.
To do the laundry.
To mow the lawn.
To cook fancy dinners.
To write a hilarious and witty blog post.
To edit the rest of our family photos so I could post them.
To figure out how to make the pictures on blogger bigger.
To run farther.
To run at all.
Instead I did none of those things (and I am not kidding when I say I didn't clean my house- heh), instead we went to Kelowna for a few days to visit Grannie.
And shop.
And go to Starbucks.
Very important.
Now, its the end of the week and I am feeling the wrath of not doing any of those things.
Its only acceptable to wear dirtyunderwear clothes for so long, then it just becomes gross.
So besides this morning when I did go for a run (mind you it was 1/3 of the length we usually run and it ended with a billion calorie delicious coffee and slow walk home), I stayed home and worked.
I made some head way.
The house is *partially* organized and a lot cleaner than it was yesterday.
The laundry is *mostly* done.
The lawn will be mowed tomorrow.
We ordered pizza for dinner.
I am FINALLY updating my blog.
I cant figure out stupid photoshop, so the photos have to wait.
And like I said, I did run.
So I was productive.
But days full of work are BOOOO.
I don't recommend it.
Lesson learned.
Unless at the end of the day you see some serious results.
Maybe tomorrow, I will see more.
Because my mom is coming for the night.
And if she expects dinner, then she better start earning her keep.
Shes a champ at the housekeeping thing.
She should have my tiny house whipped into shape in no time.
It was nice to see this hanging on my cupboard when I got out of the shower this morning.
a very thoughtful note from my running friend, Stacey
Little things like that, make it easier to do crappy things like stay in the house all day, when all you really want to do is go outside anddrink beer play. I am happy to have such great people in my life.
Now, onto Maizey. People, she is a moving. She can get from here to there in no time flat and all with the push of one big toe and the pull of determined little arms. Seriously, she does a weird little yoga leg move and just...goes... fast. And with authority. Nothing stops her. It wont be long before this scoot turns into a crawl.
*note the big toe on the back foot.
She is finally better. Maybe not 100% yet, but still wayyyy better than she was even just a few days ago. We are so over this being sick.
She started sleeping on her belly. (while we were in FSJ actually). I found something a little un-nerving about the whole belly sleeping thing. But she seems fine, so I'm over it.
She hits things away when she doesn't want them.
She screamed for an hour when Grannie tried to put her to bed, while Brian and I went out to a movie. It finally took a car ride to get her to go to sleep. Atleast I got to finish the movie. Heh.
She wants to feed herself things. She sometimes bites her fingers in the process. Then she cries.
She follows me around doing the scooting thing. I kicked her over by accident today. I felt bad. She cried.
It has been confirmed that yes, she is in fact, saying 'whats this'. She a genius.
She always wants Brians hat, but the second she gets it, she chucks it, and Missys got an arm on her. Its almost as though she knows its rude to wear your hat in the house.
She gives kisses. Big, slobbery, open mouth kisses. I love them.
She smiles, waves and laughs at herself every time she looks in the mirror. She knows shes cute.
And last, but not least...girl is finally getting some tub to her. A nice little plump belly. She one day wont be happy about that, but for now... HUZZAH!!!
Not physically weak.
Not mentally weak.
Just weak.
Everyday I had good intentions.
To clean the house.
To do the laundry.
To mow the lawn.
To cook fancy dinners.
To write a hilarious and witty blog post.
To edit the rest of our family photos so I could post them.
To figure out how to make the pictures on blogger bigger.
To run farther.
To run at all.
Instead I did none of those things (and I am not kidding when I say I didn't clean my house- heh), instead we went to Kelowna for a few days to visit Grannie.
And shop.
And go to Starbucks.
Very important.
Now, its the end of the week and I am feeling the wrath of not doing any of those things.
Its only acceptable to wear dirty
So besides this morning when I did go for a run (mind you it was 1/3 of the length we usually run and it ended with a billion calorie delicious coffee and slow walk home), I stayed home and worked.
I made some head way.
The house is *partially* organized and a lot cleaner than it was yesterday.
The laundry is *mostly* done.
The lawn will be mowed tomorrow.
We ordered pizza for dinner.
I am FINALLY updating my blog.
I cant figure out stupid photoshop, so the photos have to wait.
And like I said, I did run.
So I was productive.
But days full of work are BOOOO.
I don't recommend it.
Lesson learned.
Unless at the end of the day you see some serious results.
Maybe tomorrow, I will see more.
Because my mom is coming for the night.
And if she expects dinner, then she better start earning her keep.
Shes a champ at the housekeeping thing.
She should have my tiny house whipped into shape in no time.
It was nice to see this hanging on my cupboard when I got out of the shower this morning.
a very thoughtful note from my running friend, Stacey
Little things like that, make it easier to do crappy things like stay in the house all day, when all you really want to do is go outside and
Now, onto Maizey. People, she is a moving. She can get from here to there in no time flat and all with the push of one big toe and the pull of determined little arms. Seriously, she does a weird little yoga leg move and just...goes... fast. And with authority. Nothing stops her. It wont be long before this scoot turns into a crawl.
*note the big toe on the back foot.
She is finally better. Maybe not 100% yet, but still wayyyy better than she was even just a few days ago. We are so over this being sick.
She started sleeping on her belly. (while we were in FSJ actually). I found something a little un-nerving about the whole belly sleeping thing. But she seems fine, so I'm over it.
She hits things away when she doesn't want them.
She screamed for an hour when Grannie tried to put her to bed, while Brian and I went out to a movie. It finally took a car ride to get her to go to sleep. Atleast I got to finish the movie. Heh.
She wants to feed herself things. She sometimes bites her fingers in the process. Then she cries.
She follows me around doing the scooting thing. I kicked her over by accident today. I felt bad. She cried.
It has been confirmed that yes, she is in fact, saying 'whats this'. She a genius.
She always wants Brians hat, but the second she gets it, she chucks it, and Missys got an arm on her. Its almost as though she knows its rude to wear your hat in the house.
She gives kisses. Big, slobbery, open mouth kisses. I love them.
She smiles, waves and laughs at herself every time she looks in the mirror. She knows shes cute.
And last, but not least...girl is finally getting some tub to her. A nice little plump belly. She one day wont be happy about that, but for now... HUZZAH!!!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Happy Mothers Day
My mom sent me this in an email the other day. Thanks Mom, I love you!
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "Its ok honey, Mommy's here"
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who cant be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars.
And that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world" and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who tell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again "Just one more time"
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons how to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home, or even away at college or have their own families.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for the mothers whose children have gone astray, who cant find the words to reach them. For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of school shootings, and the mothers of the those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad Hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in the heart? Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2a.m to put her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2a.m when she just wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in her home?
Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation... and for mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us.
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray and never stop being a mother...
"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall"
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "Its ok honey, Mommy's here"
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who cant be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars.
And that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world" and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who tell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand)mothers who wanted, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again "Just one more time"
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons how to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home, or even away at college or have their own families.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for the mothers whose children have gone astray, who cant find the words to reach them. For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of school shootings, and the mothers of the those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad Hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?
Or is it in the heart? Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2a.m to put her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2a.m when she just wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in her home?
Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation... and for mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us.
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray and never stop being a mother...
"Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall"
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Wicked Stupid Or Wicked Smaht??
Long post disclaimer: don't read if you don't want to. its long.
I was given many a sideways glance when I told people that we were packing up our two babies and taking them on a thirteen hour road trip. I was told I was crazy, good luck and asked if I was looking for some kind of punishment for something? I, on the other hand, wasn't even a little bit worried. Maizey has been on countless road-trips, sometimes with both Brian and I, once with my mom and a few just her and I. Corbin has made the six hour drive to Pemberton to visit his grandparents numerous times, starting at just a few weeks old, and he always does fine. Plus, he can be entertained, quieted and calmed with the mention, promise and delivery of anything food related. So, last Saturday at 4:23a.m Ang and I loaded her truck with suitcases (her two to my one), play pens, sleeping bags, pillows, toys, coolers of food, road trip music and cameras to begin the thirteen hours of driving. To say the least, it was a piece of freaking cake (mmm... cake). Our babies are pretty much professional road trippers now. They know that crying is to be kept to a minimum until within 10-ish km's of proposed stop. They know that crying does not get them taken out of their seats. They know that crying only makes the music be turned up louder. So in turn, they did VERY little crying... so little in fact, that I even hopped in the back to see what was going on, only to find Maizey quietly playing with the tag on Mildred. They were unbelievable. We made three stops on the way there, once for a bathroom break, once for fuel and once for coffee. There were no unscheduled stops. Period. We saw tons of wildlife, including a Grizzly Bear and a Wolf besides countless deer and elk, some baby sheep and a dead moose. We made it in thirteen hours exactly, almost to the minute (we can thank Ang and her heavy foot for that, since she didn't let me drive even ONCE!!!) so it was actually eleven hours of driving, two hours of stops.
It was SO great to see Andrea and her little family. Its been eight months since we last saw Andrea, Natalie and Cade (they were here in Revy visiting when Maizey was born) and its been almost three years since we saw Ryan. We got in some serious catching up time. Its hard to plan too many activities when you have three kids that need afternoon naps, so we tried to get out every morning and do something, then the afternoons were spend visiting and letting kids sleep. We did a lot of sitting around, laughing really loudly about old times, playing our old theme songs on repeat (Six Pack Summer, When The Sun Goes Down, Here For The Party, etc), drinking beer, staying up late (well later than normal... its all relative) comparing parenting techniques, tips, advice, and really just loving having the A-team back together. It was super relaxed which was exactly what we all wanted and SO much fun!
Maizey was sick when we left and didn't actually end up getting any better, so after a particularly bad night of only about half an hour of sleep, I took her in to the walk-in clinic. The doctor said it was a lung infection and prescribed some antibiotics. (see next post for details on follow up...) After struggling through the night, we had decided that maybe it was time to cut the trip a day short and start heading home. It was sad to be cutting an already short trip even shorter, but its hard having a sick little one when you are away from home and we thought it would be best to get home and help her get better.... The trip home was not so breezy. Maybe that's what happens when you leave at 11:15a.m rather than 4. And when you only plan on driving five hours, but at the five hour mark change your mind and try to muscle through the other six. And when you have gotten about 3 hours-ish sleep between the both of you. Maybe that's what happens. The whole way it was... well its only 5:00, we can make it to Jasper... well its only 250 more km's to Lake Louise... if we can make it to Lake Louise we might as well go all the way to Golden... well its dumb to stop in Golden, we might as well just go all the way home. That's when things got bad. It was dark, both kids didn't want to sleep, there was a semi going 20km's/hr and passing on a double solid (Ang) incident at the same time as there was a screaming (Maizey) incident at the same time as there was a puking (Corbin) incident. Then there was a screaming at the same time as the "I lost our dog" phone call. There was a tuna sub game (played by Corbin) while *someone* tried not to throw up at the sight of it. There were some good times on the way home, but right now, the bad ones are much funnier to think about. They are what made our trip home *memorable*!!!
Just a side note - We decided that Ang and I are pretty much perfect road trip partners. We like the same driving snacks and music. We both like to sing. We like to make fun of Karen *the GPS*. The last 18 km's are painful, we know this and relish in it... errr, I mean go cuckoo and laugh A LOT. Starbucks stops ARE important, as is busting a nut on the middle of the icefields parkway to chance a second glimpse at the wolf. (both things our husbands would find not important and/or not do). And pretty much, how many other people can you spend 26 hours in the car with in one week and still want to hang out the next morning at 10:00 (which is what we did)??
Our trip to the North was, besides the walk-in clinic issue and the mis-haps on the drive home, a great success. We will totally do it again, maybe in the summer months so there is less chance of snow while we are there, but for sure we will do it again. For now, we wait until Canada Day long weekend to see our favorite little Doherty family again!
Ang and I getting read to go.
(many many more pictures to come but they are on three different cameras, so we need to get them all together first!)
I was given many a sideways glance when I told people that we were packing up our two babies and taking them on a thirteen hour road trip. I was told I was crazy, good luck and asked if I was looking for some kind of punishment for something? I, on the other hand, wasn't even a little bit worried. Maizey has been on countless road-trips, sometimes with both Brian and I, once with my mom and a few just her and I. Corbin has made the six hour drive to Pemberton to visit his grandparents numerous times, starting at just a few weeks old, and he always does fine. Plus, he can be entertained, quieted and calmed with the mention, promise and delivery of anything food related. So, last Saturday at 4:23a.m Ang and I loaded her truck with suitcases (her two to my one), play pens, sleeping bags, pillows, toys, coolers of food, road trip music and cameras to begin the thirteen hours of driving. To say the least, it was a piece of freaking cake (mmm... cake). Our babies are pretty much professional road trippers now. They know that crying is to be kept to a minimum until within 10-ish km's of proposed stop. They know that crying does not get them taken out of their seats. They know that crying only makes the music be turned up louder. So in turn, they did VERY little crying... so little in fact, that I even hopped in the back to see what was going on, only to find Maizey quietly playing with the tag on Mildred. They were unbelievable. We made three stops on the way there, once for a bathroom break, once for fuel and once for coffee. There were no unscheduled stops. Period. We saw tons of wildlife, including a Grizzly Bear and a Wolf besides countless deer and elk, some baby sheep and a dead moose. We made it in thirteen hours exactly, almost to the minute (we can thank Ang and her heavy foot for that, since she didn't let me drive even ONCE!!!) so it was actually eleven hours of driving, two hours of stops.
It was SO great to see Andrea and her little family. Its been eight months since we last saw Andrea, Natalie and Cade (they were here in Revy visiting when Maizey was born) and its been almost three years since we saw Ryan. We got in some serious catching up time. Its hard to plan too many activities when you have three kids that need afternoon naps, so we tried to get out every morning and do something, then the afternoons were spend visiting and letting kids sleep. We did a lot of sitting around, laughing really loudly about old times, playing our old theme songs on repeat (Six Pack Summer, When The Sun Goes Down, Here For The Party, etc), drinking beer, staying up late (well later than normal... its all relative) comparing parenting techniques, tips, advice, and really just loving having the A-team back together. It was super relaxed which was exactly what we all wanted and SO much fun!
Maizey was sick when we left and didn't actually end up getting any better, so after a particularly bad night of only about half an hour of sleep, I took her in to the walk-in clinic. The doctor said it was a lung infection and prescribed some antibiotics. (see next post for details on follow up...) After struggling through the night, we had decided that maybe it was time to cut the trip a day short and start heading home. It was sad to be cutting an already short trip even shorter, but its hard having a sick little one when you are away from home and we thought it would be best to get home and help her get better.... The trip home was not so breezy. Maybe that's what happens when you leave at 11:15a.m rather than 4. And when you only plan on driving five hours, but at the five hour mark change your mind and try to muscle through the other six. And when you have gotten about 3 hours-ish sleep between the both of you. Maybe that's what happens. The whole way it was... well its only 5:00, we can make it to Jasper... well its only 250 more km's to Lake Louise... if we can make it to Lake Louise we might as well go all the way to Golden... well its dumb to stop in Golden, we might as well just go all the way home. That's when things got bad. It was dark, both kids didn't want to sleep, there was a semi going 20km's/hr and passing on a double solid (Ang) incident at the same time as there was a screaming (Maizey) incident at the same time as there was a puking (Corbin) incident. Then there was a screaming at the same time as the "I lost our dog" phone call. There was a tuna sub game (played by Corbin) while *someone* tried not to throw up at the sight of it. There were some good times on the way home, but right now, the bad ones are much funnier to think about. They are what made our trip home *memorable*!!!
Just a side note - We decided that Ang and I are pretty much perfect road trip partners. We like the same driving snacks and music. We both like to sing. We like to make fun of Karen *the GPS*. The last 18 km's are painful, we know this and relish in it... errr, I mean go cuckoo and laugh A LOT. Starbucks stops ARE important, as is busting a nut on the middle of the icefields parkway to chance a second glimpse at the wolf. (both things our husbands would find not important and/or not do). And pretty much, how many other people can you spend 26 hours in the car with in one week and still want to hang out the next morning at 10:00 (which is what we did)??
Our trip to the North was, besides the walk-in clinic issue and the mis-haps on the drive home, a great success. We will totally do it again, maybe in the summer months so there is less chance of snow while we are there, but for sure we will do it again. For now, we wait until Canada Day long weekend to see our favorite little Doherty family again!
Ang and I getting read to go.
(many many more pictures to come but they are on three different cameras, so we need to get them all together first!)
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