Tuesday, October 28, 2014

The horror of family photo shoots

“It’s going to be better than last time,” I promised nervously, clutching child-sized hangers and a bag of hair supplies. “We’re just going to go in, get it done, and get it out — no big deal. Quick and easy.”

I was talking out loud, but I wasn't sure if I was promising my husband and the kids, or just reassuring myself.

We had mistakenly scheduled a dreaded family photo shoot for the morning after we’d been away for most of Thanksgiving weekend. Everyone was tired and cranky. We’d overslept. No one was feeling particularly friendly towards each other, let alone prepared to pose lovingly together on a faux sheepskin rug.

I hadn't even started thinking about outfits until half an hour before the shoot, let alone figured out what was clean and relatively unwrinkled. There was a time, years ago, when I actually bought clothing in order to help us all coordinate.

This year? The “theme” was denim, black, and Oh My God, Just Find A Blue Shirt and Get In The Damn Car.

Continue reading in my weekly column, The Mom Scene ... 

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Taking the time


When I get busier than usual, I also get crankier than usual. It's like a predictable math problem, A + B = C. (Is that a thing? I suck at math. guys)

But one thing I've learned in my 31 years is that a surefire way to uncrankify myself is to get things in order. Clean something. Tidy something something. Organize something.

My mom once read a book about "children of divorce," and told me that that's why I craved order and having control over things. It stuck with me, and it's true.

When shit is going crazy all around me -- personally, professionally, both -- I take comfort in doing the little tasks I can control.

For the past few weeks (one, two, eight?) I have felt like the house is slowly crumbling around me. Yes, we were getting the dishes done, and the kitchen counter was (mostly) clear of random crap, but little things were getting worse and worse.

The stair baskets were always full of items to go up or down. The carpets were getting more and more desperate to be vacuumed. The toys weren't always getting put away. My project/craft junk was spilling out of my office into the basement. Those thousand little niggling tasks have been wearing me down.

So tonight, after the kids (and Darling Husband) were in bed and my work (my ACTUAL work) was done, I attacked my house.

I didn't finish everything that's been bugging me. But I cleared off some surfaces. I actually picked up a bottle of Windex and wiped some surfaces! I put things away. I sorted jumbled toy baskets. Is there anything more soothing than sorting toys and getting them all put into their proper bins? It's got to be up there with yoga, right?

I'm pretty sure I also played Barbies (alone) while sorting out the Barbie bins and organizing their house. I was watching Full House on Netflix at the same time, which made it ever sweeter.

I need to start doing this more often, because even that hour or cleaning/organizing made me feel SO much more in control of things. I may have to schedule it in one of my many Google calendars, but if that's what it takes, fine.

I know when I come downstairs tomorrow morning, the house is going to be a little cleaner and more organized than usual ... and damn, it's going to feel good.

xo

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

How do you decide when you're done having children?

I've written about this topic before, but our family has recently taken, uh, measures to ensure that we are not having more children.


It was an easy decision in many ways, but I still had a moment or two of panic where I second-guessed myself. Each and every time, I thought about it and said, "Oh. Right. No. No, we're definitely done."

... I also don’t feel like we could emotionally handle more than two kids. Having children and juggling multiple jobs is hard on a marriage — and on a person’s sanity — and I want to be in a position to guard mine a little more cautiously.

I'm writing more about this today in my weekly parenting column, The Mom Scene. I'd love to have you pop over and check it out, if this is a question you find yourself asking ... 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Saying yes to new traditions

In keeping with our new tradition of not getting each other giftcards -- or any physical gifts at all -- for our birthdays, Best Friend and I met today for one of our new and totally awesome birthday lunches.

It was wonderful.

I think you (at least I) honestly forget how nice it is to catch up with friends (A) IN PERSON and (B) WITHOUT YOUR CHILDREN and (C) in a more upscale environment than McDonalds.

We talked about everything (kids, work, family, etc.) and I left feeling rejuvenated! Why, oh why, in this age of All Things Internet, does it have to be so hard to get together in person?

I mean, who else can reminisce about that one Halloween when we were 11 and dressed up as Elvis and Priscilla?!

(Spoiler alert; I think I just looked like a hooker)


Let's do it again soon.

xo

Friday, October 10, 2014

When moms become hoarders

I have hoarder tendencies, especially when it comes to our children. The sentimental side of me wants to preserve every piece of artwork, treasured board book, and precious teeny tiny shoe.

These stripey sort-of-matching jammies! How can I part with youuuuuuuu?

But I also get antsy about clutter, so the organization-hungry side of me says “We don’t have the space! We can’t keep everything!”

Here’s the process I follow for keeping the “memories” under control ...

Keep one memory box for each child. I have two medium-sized plastic totes in our master bedroom closet — one for our son, one for our daughter — for keeping the really special items. By keeping the box somewhere central, it’s easy to add items along the way and ensure nothing gets lost. I have saved their tiny soothers, the bibs from their first taste of solid food, certificates from their toddler “classes,” birth announcements, and first locks of hair — although we have yet to cut our daughter’s hair yet, so she will probably be 10 before that gets added.

Make space-saving decisions: When our youngest potty-trained, I found myself getting sentimental about parting with the kids’ shared stash of cloth diapers. Yes, I actually felt sappy about pieces of cloth that had been peed and pooed on, repeatedly, for years. But I knew it was silly to keep all of them, so I only kept three “favourites” — a blue one for our son’s memory box, a pink-and-purple design one for our daughter’s, and a black-and-white one for my own memory box — you know, so I can look back one day and remember changing those tiny (stylish) bums.

Continue reading over in my weekly parenting column, The Mom Scene ... 

Monday, October 6, 2014

When introverts have children ...

I think the biggest challenge for me, as a parent, is the fact that I spent so much of my pre-kid life ... all alone.

As a kid, I spent most afternoons alone in my bedroom, playing Barbies and listening to Salt-N-Pepa (coolest kid ever). I was very into computers and became obsessed with teaching myself HTML and building silly little websites (lucky for you guys, riiiiiiiight?).

Even as a teenager, I still spent plenty of time alone. Mom travelled a lot for work, so it was often just me and my sister. We both learned to embrace our aloneness, and today we agree that it's something we NEED the way most people need oxygen.


For as long as I've lived with Darling Husband (11 years now), he has done shift-work -- and often worked two jobs, although not anymore, luckily. I would go days without seeing him during waking hours, and kept myself busy with crafts, sewing, painting, writing, and lots of crap TV. I had a tiny dog who I carried around under my arm, and we were perfectly content in our peaceful little life -- although, yeah, lonely sometimes.

For an introvert, having children is a huge shock to the system.

If I were to really analyze all of my Cranky Mom Moments, most of them would stem from the fact that I was overwhelmed by the noise, work, and frustration that can come from spending so much time -- in close quarters -- with other people. Mainly the noise?


I adore my kids -- and my husband -- but I'm also at home basically 24 hours a day. I need (NEED) to find tiny pockets of time in every day when I can be alone. And, if I can't be alone alone, then it's time that I can at least go off into my own little world.


  • I always set my alarm 10-15 minutes earlier than I really need to get up, so I can lie in bed and check email, Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. I have tried doing the whole "get up early and go downstairs for a cup of tea alone" thing, but my child have sonar-like hearing. If my feet hit the floor, they immediately rush it. So as long as I'm lying in bed, I have a few minutes to wake up slowly.
  • We eat breakfast and lunch separately. I'm strict about us eating dinner together as a family, because it's the only meal when Darling Husband is home, these days. But breakfast? Lunch? No, I must admit. The kids sit at their little table and I put on a show, and I sit at the big table and eat quietly while reading (sometimes a book, usually the internet). In the morning, it's my little "break" before we begin our activities. At lunch, it's a "break" before I launch into my afternoon of work.
  • Doing the dishes has become a spa-like experience. I turn on Songza, crank it up, and look out the window at the view. If I'm home alone with the kids, they play around the corner in the living room. If Darling Husband is home, I shoo them all outside. He offers to do the dishes and I usually hiss at him that I "get" to do them. I, uh, even did this in a friend's trailer while camping!
  • I relish the post-bedtime hours. When the kids go to bed, Darling Husband often has already been in bed for an hour (thanks to his latest schedule). On nights that I don't have to work, I savour a few hours of complete "me time." I work on sewing projects, watch my own TV shows, read fun stuff on the internet (blogs, GOMI), read books, and ENJOY. THE. PEACE. AND. QUIET.

I know as the kids get older, I will start feeling lonely again and miss the days when they were constantly bleeting for my attention, so I try to embrace it as much as I can.

But I also really, really need these little bits of alone time. And I'm not going to feel badly about that.

Any other introvert mamas out there? 

xo

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

The trouble with "Boys will be boys"

I know a mother who laughs when she tells stories about taking her three sons to Target — watching them get into wrestling matches, hurl items through the store, and scream as they chase each other around the aisles.


 She has literally taken photos of this mayhem, posted them on Instagram, and hashtagged them with #boyswillbeboys.

Sure, she finds it embarrassing sometimes — when they get really over the top. But mostly, she accepts it as commonplace. They’re just being boys, you know?

 No. No. No. I have seen boys like this, at indoor playplaces, playdates, and playgrounds. I have seen the way their parents chuckle at their behaviour, or call out a lighthearted “Careful!” and then turn away again. I have had to intervene with a firm “No hitting, guys!” when my own kids are walloped — and I’ve seen the dirty looks from those parents.

 When friends of mine — who only have daughters — exclaim that my son is so gentle and polite, I’m proud of him. They go on to tell me horror stories about rough little boys terrorizing their daughters on playdates, knocking them down on purpose and grabbing toys from their hands — while their mothers shrug, laugh, and offer up a “Boys will be boys,” or “He’s such a boy.” This happens so often that girl-moms sometimes expect this kind of behaviour during a playdate with a little boy — and that’s not right.

Continue reading in my weekly parenting column, "The Mom Scene" ... 

Thursday, September 25, 2014

I love my daughter ... but man, I wish she'd stop this!

It started out innocently enough, with two mismatched socks.

Our two-year-old daughter decided she wanted to wear socks during her nap, so she pawed through her drawers until she could locate two (very different) socks. In the process, of course, she had thrown dozens of shirts, pairs of leggings, and underwear around her room.



I bent down, grumbled, and picked up all of the tiny articles of clothing. I made her help, of course, but that probably make the ordeal take even longer. I spoke to her firmly about not destroying her room by emptying her (two!) dressers.

“O-tay, Mama,” she answered sweetly, nodding her curly head and heading for the stairs.

The next morning, we woke up to see that she’d done it again. She’d wanted to wear a sweatshirt over her pyjamas, and naturally that meant creating a mountain of jeans and shorts.

She must have felt she was onto something, because soon she was emptying her drawers every day to build a huge nest of clothes — and then she would sleep on it!

Continue reading over at The Mom Scene, my weekly parenting column in The Chronicle Herald