Tag Archives: family

Zombie Mom

mombie5:59 am this morning our three kids barged into our bedroom fully disguised and yelled HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Thanks for that morning jolt kids!  Jack woke up in a panic. I was in shock too. I was trying to understand how they were suddenly able to manage to dress themselves and get ready all by themselves when the rest of the school mornings they roll in their beds while I try to dress them.

Yup it’s Halloween aka mommy overtime. I apologize for my lack of enthusiasm, some days I am a Marry Poppins kind of mom but today doesn’t feel like one of those days. Today it’s just Zombie mom.

A working, cleaning, cooking, planning exhausted zombie mom.

I know I should make more time for myself. I’m trying but part of the problem is that we’ve been taught to play only after the work is done and the thing with motherhood is that the work is never done.

Never ever ever.

Never.

Oh how I had imagined parenthood in my dreams. I had only imagined the breezy and happy moments. I would imagine a happy family sitting at a dinner table. I used to imagine my future children so proper and well mannered. I thought of course they will sit still at dinner time, try to eat by themselves and engage into peaceful social interaction among themselves while we adults get a chance to catch up.

All I got to say to my young self is…

Ba-ha-ha! Ridiculous!

I guess the first stage of parenting is realizing how different it really is from what you could have ever imagined. The rest well I can’t really say. I’m still figuring it out for myself and truthfully it seems like the more the years pass the less I feel  I have it figured out.

Ok enough sulking let’s go hustle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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October 31, 2018 · 9:54 am

Just Grab Your Nuts

Just Grab Your Nuts

I use to not be such a fan of animals but my readings on consciousness have changed that about me. They’ve taught me to observe animals and to learn. Many meditation exercises include animals such as conscious butterfly watching.

Seriously when is the last time you watched a butterfly fly?

I watch a squirrel in our backyard and I wonder. Does the mama squirrel stress out over all the chores she has to do?  Does she worry that she won’t build the shelter in time or that she won’t store enough food for the winter?  I wonder, does she doubt herself or does she believe in herself?

Is an animal even able to imagine a worst case scenario?

Probably not.

A squirrel is surely capable of fear towards something real but unless it’s dreaming I would imagine it cannot scare itself by imagining worst case scenarios for herself and her fuzzy family. She doesn’t stress too much about it she just goes out there every day, rain or shine. She climbs the trees, stores de fruit, hides the nuts. She just does what she’s got to do to prepare for winter. Every day she trusts that the sun will go down and then come up again tomorrow.

Hmm I guess these books are right. Apparently I can learn from animals.

Now this mama squirrel has to go do mama squirrel things.

But still, I cannot help but wonder. Does that mama squirrel ever feel like she needs a crazy night out to party and unwind?

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Open Doors: Who still goes to church?

open doors1Open Doors

A2’s day care is stuck to our community church, and now that they’ve locked the daycare side entrance door you have no choice but to go through the main entrance and walk past the open doors of the church. I feel guilty to just walk by it and not go in for a moment. I feel like I’ll be cursed if I just walked by. Especially that A1 is with me every day during that part of our daily routine. Maybe the side doors being locked are the local priest’s strategy to bring us closer to the church. Now that’s slick. I can say that I’m pretty lost in my spiritual identity but I know that being raised with religion gave me a certain peace of mind as a child. I was taught to pray and used it in time of need. Sure I might’ve prayed for the teacher not to check my homework or for that bully to leave me alone in the school bus, but I had something there, something to give me hope and keep my spirits high. I want my children to have at least that. Something to sooth them or ease their pain when they’re on their own. So every day we walk into church and take a moment. Every day we walk in and I take the time to be grateful and think about what I really want from myself. Honestly sometimes I just stand there soaking in the silence. Today I asked for… I didn’t know what to ask for… So many things on my mind…

I asked to want less.

I asked, please lord, help me want less.

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Open Windows and Iced Water

Holiday madness, everybody’s got a thousand things to do. I am hosting on Christmas day and my mother insisted on helping me with the cooking. I am very particular when it comes to this, I don’t know how to explain it but I like to take care of the cooking myself when I have guests over. Sometimes it’s just impossible, and I have to accept help, but a part of me still really struggles with that. I think I just like to play host, and it kills me that I can’t properly do it.

I blame the kids, entirely. Hopefully, one day, when they grow up, I’ll have the chance to host as I please, and for payback, I’ll make them wash the dishes and clean the house. It’s going to be wonderful having three girls around to help me with cooking and cleaning. If they’re going to be anything close to what I was as a teenager, then I’m pretty much doomed but there’s always wishing. I didn’t lift a finger when I lived with my parents; I never did my own laundry and never ever cooked a meal for myself. I didn’t even clean my room. One time after ignoring my mother’s threats about my dirty room,  I came back to a very clean room. Clean alright, my mom had thrown everything out of the window, literally out of the window. I must say she had a unique parenting tactic, but I must admit I wasn’t the easiest to deal with. Every morning she would try to wake me up for school and I just wouldn’t budge until one day, she poured an icy glass of water on my face. Not only did that get me up and running, but from then on, all she had to do was shake a glass of icy water and let the sound of those clinking ice cubes wake me up.

I’m nervous about writing about my mom because I’m afraid of misrepresenting her, she truly is a wonderful woman and I would be lucky to be half as wise as her.

A couple of days ago, as I was in the middle of my usual mayhem, the phone rang; it was a challenge just to get to the phone. It was my mother telling me all about the great food she’s been cooking for Christmas at my house. And what do I say to her: thank you? I love you? You’re the best for doing this for me?

No…

I say “ Mom, I’m very busy right now and I really can’t talk”.

I know… it’s bad. Why do we treat our moms like this? I hope they know we love them no matter what non-sense we say…That specific day, not only did my mom spend her only day off cooking for me, but then went and got A1 from school and kept her so that I could have it a little easier for a few hours with only the other two.

I know. I’m a monster.

So after I told my mother I didn’t have time to talk I asked to speak with my daughter.

I had spent hours making personalized Christmas gifts for each and every one of her teachers, following her every last request and demand. That was the day she was supposed to give the gifts to her teachers.

So I asked my mom: “Could I talk to A1?” and she passed the phone.

A1 said “Hi”

I asked her “How are you? Did the teachers like their gift? Did they open it?”

And do you know what she responded? Life. just full of lessons, pouring out in every single moment….

She responded “MOM! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR QUESTIONS, I’M PLAYING!” and handed the phone back to her grandma.

There you go… this is life.

So how do I feel now?

I’m thinking, if I love my mom the way I know I love my mom and I still talk to her this way, then I am reassured to know that my daughter loves me even though she talks to me this way. Writing this, I have a huge smile on my face and eyes filled with tears, for I’ve just understood how my mom deals with me.

With love.

No matter what I do, or say, she never doubts my love.

And now, I guess I do the same for my daughter.

I learn from my mother every day and I learn from my daughters every day, and the oddest part is that they seem to teach me most about myself.

Mommy I love you, and I’m sorry for snapping at you.

And A1 you better be ready because I’m coming at you with open windows and iced water!

heart

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The game and the blog will have to wait.

I’m trying to be positive, but it’s not working right now. I’m sitting in front of the lap top that I had to fight for! We put the kids to bed and by the time I made it down the stairs, I realized Jack was already in the basement watching the recorded game. The kids were still yelling, the kitchen floor was covered in food and the family room looked like three kids had gone wild in it five minutes ago.

I took a look around and realized the bag of chips was missing along with the laptop. Jack was probably all set up downstairs, watching the game and checking his hockey pool with one hand, with the other hand buried deep in that bag of chips.

When I finally made it to the basement I had to wrestle him for the laptop. As soon as I sit down to start a post, we hear A3 in the baby monitor. Now the silent argument starts. Who’s going to get up? We stare each other down, we’re both mentally cursing at each other. I got up. Went upstairs to find A3 rolled up in her blanket, holding the crib bars while looking out of them, like some kind of sad prisoner. We know the drill by now. Pull the crib forward of an inch, hear the pacifier fall, lie down flat on the floor, tap in all directions to feel the thing, grab it, rinse it, stick it back into her mouth until next time. I go to check on A1 and A2, A1 is asleep and A2 is standing in her crib. “I pooped in my diaper” she said. I know she didn’t poo, because if she did, let’s just say, you can’t miss it! A two year old eats, drinks and poops normally, if you know what I mean. Now, I’m not sure why she says that she pooped, does she confuse pee for poo? Or does she know we’ll definitely change her if its poo and that will give her a chance to escape the crib. I check her diaper, no poo. “It’s not poo, its peepee ” I tell her. “Go back to bed”. You wouldn’t imagine the number of times you say the words “peepee” and “Poopoo” in one day, when you have kids.

I come back downstairs, the moment I sit down, we hear A2 crying through the monitor and now she’s woken A3 up again. “Your turn Jack”. Jack goes upstairs and 5 seconds later I hear him calling for me through the monitor. I go upstairs to find him changing A2’s diaper…she got him. I go attend to A3, while I hear A2 arguing with her father “I want mom!”. Jack and I switch positions. I take A2 back to her crib.

A2: “The sun’s sleeping?”

Me: “Yes”

A2: “I want to see”

So I take her towards the window and as I do I see the biggest smile on her face. She’s just happy she’s not heading to the crib. I show her the moon; explain to her that the sun is sleeping and that she should too… back to her crib.

A2: “But I didn’t wave goodbye to the cats”

ME: “Not this time! No cat! No shmat! You’re going to bed”

A2: “Ok then, I want another milk”

As I leave A2’s room, I see Jack leaving A3’s room.

“She throws away the pacifier while looking into my eyes! She playing with me man! She doesn’t take me seriously! “

He’s talking about his 10 month old daughter. Imagine what will happen when she turns 15.

We come back downstairs, and 2 minutes later, A3’s crying again. Who’s turn is it now? We figure, we should to let her cry for a bit, she has to learn. 5 minutes later, Jack can’t take it anymore and he gets up.

I’m watching him right now through the monitor, he did the pacifier routine, and now he’s stroking her hair while gently talking to her.

He went up, and it wasn’t necessarily his turn, to me, this is romance.

Sure it’s hard with three kids, we don’t get a moment to ourselves, they drive us up the walls and we empty our anger on each other. But once in a while a little gesture is all it takes to show each other, that after all, we’re on the same team.

She’s still crying, I better go up there and give him a hand.

The game and the blog will have to wait.

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Bed time: A mind war

It’s almost 9:30 pm. 23 month old A2 is standing up wailing in her crib. 5 year old A1 who shares the bedroom is narrating what’s happening and A3 just woke up by the chaos.

Beautiful.

It’s these moments that keep me in peace.

A2 just tossed her blanket and pacifier out of her crib again. I tried explaining to her that if she tosses them again, she won’t get them back… but we both know that she won’t sleep without them. So this is another mind game.

She threw them out, again, and she’s still crying. I tried taking them for a while. She cried… I held on to them for a few minutes then gave them back. That will work, I hoped.

Well it didn’t. She tossed them out within the same second and is still crying.

I went back to my chair without picking them up. And here I am. I’ve written about the chair before. I have a chair set up outside their bedroom, where I sit until they fall asleep. It’s been a while though. They’ve been good lately and didn’t require me to sit here until they fell asleep. But A2’s getting close to the crazy two’s and so I’m back here again.

It’s been a few minutes, I’m wondering if I should get up and hand her the pacifier and blanket just yet. Her cries are sounding more and more tiresome, with yawning intervals.

I got up and handed them to her, came back to my seat. I talked to her…I shouldn’t have talked to her.

She just threw them out again!

She wins this round, again.

Why don’t I just yell at her?

Because then I would teach her that yelling is a mean of communication that I use.

Because then she will fall asleep with fear having been her last emotion of the day.

Because then I would have put my child to bed in anger.

I’m hoping there’s a better solution.

I’ll figure it out…eventually.

This isn’t working.

A1 just suggested “call dad.”

Ya, call Jack and have him do the dirty work…

Ok one more try…

I tried the utter most tenderness. I went in, didn’t say a word picked her up, held her tight, kissed her, cleaned her face from tears, leaned down with her, she reached for her blanket and pacifier. I stood up, still not saying a word, I pointed to my cheek, she reached in and gave me a kiss. Then I pointed to her crib, placed her in. Sung her a lullaby and walked out.

Went back to my chair.

By the time my butt touched the seat …

She was already up and bawling again.

That was a complete fail.

Jack just came up. He gave it a go…

He tried tenderness, some discipline, yelled a little, played a little, danced a little…

Still a no go.

He leaves.

We should make them pay for tickets at this point, because we’ve become a show!

Ok I’m desperate; it’s been over 40 minutes. I know she’s tired.

I take out my phone and go online. Search for an Armenian Lullaby. I play it and go back to my seat.

She stopped.

This song is really beautiful.

She’s sleeping.

Unbelievable!

The power of music…

They’re sleeping in peace, no one got mad at another, no anger, no fear, no guilt.

Just love and music.

Ah… now that this is done, I should start with my chores… I’ll rest when I’m old.

Goodnight.

P.S Listen to this song, it will make any man, woman or child give in to slumber.

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Granpa took a nap in a house with 3 girls. Woke up wearing a pink slipper.

Cinderella found her slipper.

 

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June 5, 2013 · 10:51 pm

Open Up Your Ears Secrets are Being Told

If your eyes are closed to the truth, then at least, open your ears.  Listen, secrets are being shared, advice is being offered, the wise are speaking of their experiences but the young are unable to focus for one moment.

Listen, without thinking about what you want to say next. Just listen.

Good advice can go a long way on one condition. It can only prove its worth when it’s taken.

Good advice is hard to take, because it means we have to do something someone else is telling us to do. We don’t like that. We don’t like that at all. Instead, we take the long way to do things. We make all the mistakes we need to make and eventually, sometimes, we succeed.

I’ve learned to listen. I assure you it took me some time. My overanalytical self would constantly question, mainly “why” and “how”. I’ve learned it’s better to take it in, honor it, apply it and then observe. You will find the answers to the “why” and “how” for yourself and it will be your lesson and take you one step closer to wisdom.

Note that, most of the time, good advice is free and comes from the mouths of our loved ones, through stories, songs, or even straight up.

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Hockey vs Hormones

Kids are asleep and Jack’s watching the game.

This morning when I changed A3’s diaper, half a pretzel came out of it. How did it get there? Probably A2’s doing. I felt really bad, imagine spending the night with a sharp edged piece of Pretzel in your underwear.pretzel

I’ve had my loved ones worry about me after the last post Face your fears and look inside. There’s nothing to worry about, I think I’m on the right track by being conscious of it all.  It being how I feel, what I think…

We’re all pretty fragile if you think about it. What are emotions? Emotions are a direct result of non-other than chemistry, hormones and neurotransmitters …

“It’s normal, you just had three kids”

Yes it’s normal that my body is out of balance and that it leaves me feeling anxious, and out of my usual self. It might be normal, but I don’t want it. I want to be in control of my own emotions and feelings.

I better learn to do what I need to do before menopause comes along with 5 times more chemical imbalances and makes me go completely insane for good. If you’ve ever felt cranky or moody because of your period cycle, because you’ve been overworked or because of lack of sleep, then you’re in the exact same boat as me, letting your body influence your mood.

Since men naturally don’t experience many drastic hormonal shifts in their life time, they are more stable in this perspective. I look at Jack, and seems like all he needs to relax and unwind is watching a good game of Hockey.

We went to a game last Saturday; it practically felt like a religious gathering.  21 273 people gathered, uniting their thoughts and positive energy towards the same goal and chanting is unison… If Hockey matters to these people as much as is matters to Jack, then it practically is a religion. In the end isn’t it the role of religion to bring beings to peace, tame their worries and bring them closer together?

This is what I was thinking about during the game… then I started staring at the building’s structure and started to worry about its stability and where we should head in case of an emergency…

Do we ever stop worrying?!

All this to say, I am now conscious of the effect of physical life events on my inner self and I want to gain full control of it. I want to be who I am no matter what hormonal phase of my life I’m in, no matter how much sleep I’ve had and no matter how much stress this life throws my way.

How? Not sure yet …

But I’ll find a way.

P.S A great win for our team tonight. Extra yey for me!

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Shhh! There’s a finger in the baby’s ear.

Jack’s watching the game, A1’s painting, A2’s talking in her crib and A3’s sleeping on the couch right next to me. I can hear the neighbour’s dog barking; a little one with a loud voice that barks at air, right outside A2’s window. That’s probably why she’s not sleeping.

A1 suddenly asks:

“Mom, are we poor?”

“Can you hear what I’m thinking?”

And while I stare at her with a thousand thoughts in my head, she adds “What are you looking at?”

What? I don’t know what to think. First of all, I never thought I’d have to deal with a pre-teen attitude so early on. Second of all, one question at a time. Well, I shouldn’t talk, if she’s anything like me, there’s no such thing as one at a time. Why do they only pick up our negative traits?

“Don’t run, you’ll fall!”  My father use to yell out every time I ran. If you saw the way I run you would be worried too. It’s a kind of running with inappropriate arm gestures and unequal steps. Now, that’s imprinted in my head, and every time I run, I fall.  This week as A1 was running, her godfather yelled out “Don’t run you’ll fall!”. I saw her run… like mother like daughter.

I just told A1 that it’s bed time. She yelled out “No!” with a little stomp in her foot. I can’t even get mad at her. I know I should… or shouldn’t I ? I don’t even know… She’s painting, in peace, alone, without A2 pulling on her hair and taking her things. I’ll let her be…

What’s more important, an obedient daughter or an understanding mother?

Poor A3, four months old, has seen more chaos than some people have seen in a lifetime.  Last week she got woken up by A2 pulling off her blanket and tickling her feet! “ Giddi, giddi, giddy” she said.

A1 just got up and did a tap dance.

“Shhhh your sisters are sleeping!”

I know with experience that the sound “Shhhhhhhh” is one of the loudest sounds you can make. Especially when you’re aggravated and are trying to express your anger towards the noise but can’t make any noise yourself.  It’s happened so many times that the “Shhhh” wakes the baby after the noise has already been made.

A3 just went downstairs. Its way past her bed time and Jack is surprised to see her still up. He’s yelling for me “Julie!”… I can’t yell back! A3’s sleeping right next to me!! I have to get up.

…Ok, I’m back. A1’s in bed.

Earlier, when A2 was still awake, I was rocking A3, she was crying hysterically because she couldn’t sleep in all the noise. I took her away from the family room into the living room. I rocked her to sleep but she was waking up every time the kids would make a sound. So as I was rocking her I stuck my finger in her ear. Her other ear was blocked because she was leaning on me. As soon as she seemed to fall asleep…Along came A2 wobbling on over, with a chocolate chicken in her hand. That chocolate chicken that I gave her and got in trouble for by Jack “Why are you giving her chocolate before bed time ?”

Oh my! I just realized that’s why she’s not sleeping and talking in her crib. It’s not the dog at all!

So, I was rocking A3 with my finger in her ear, when A2 came over with chocolate all over her hands and face. She came closer and closer. All I was thinking was please not the living room couches! I was torn! Should I call out for Jack at the risk of waking A3 up or stay quiet and let A2 ruin the couches?

What’s more important clean couches or a baby’s peaceful sleep?

I whispered “Jack!”, he didn’t hear me…  How could he, he’s way over in the kitchen. After a few seconds he came looking for chocolate covered A2 and took her away.

A few minutes later, she escaped from him again. This time I saw her going straight for the stairs. “Jack” I whispered… nothing.

What’s more important a baby’s peaceful sleep or a toddler’s safety?

I called out for Jack and woke A3 up.

Back to square 1.

Btw we use an upside down storage bin as a coffee table and the top of the blender as a pitcher… maybe that’s why she asks if we’re poor…DO YOU BLAME HER?

Home team won tonight. Jack will be in a better mood.

Yey for me !

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Be real and do your laundry

After a very long day, kids finally asleep, sunken deep into the basement couch, we realize we forgot to bring down the baby monitor. Who’s going to go get it?

I am. Be right back.

You can’t really argue over this one… every moment that passes counts. What if baby’s crying and we can’t hear her because we’re wasting time arguing about who’s going to go upstairs to get the monitor. Now that I did this one, he’ll have to do the next thing that comes up. With 3 kids in the house anything could come up any time.

Later when the washer stops I’ll ask him to empty the washer into the dryer. Last time he did, I heard him yell from the washroom “For once I’d like to open the washer and find MY clothes in there!”

It’s true, it’s never his laundry. It’s always the girls’ pink laundry.

Jack’s yelling at the TV again. Good thing I’ve got this blog. What else would I be doing while he watches the game?

What do the wives and girlfriends of the world do while the guys are watching the game? I’m sure some really enjoy it and others only pretend… Let’s not go there.

Well a confident woman doesn’t need to pretend about anything. Life is too short to pretend anything. We should focus on being real. Reality has become a rarity and it’s sad.

So our deal is I blog while he watches the game. That’s why I hope our team goes to the playoffs.

From laundry, to pretending, to hockey. “You need more structure in your texts” someone once told me.

I need more structure in my head!

This is exactly how thoughts go through my mind, I go from topic to topic and it’s exhausting. If I’m exhausting myself with my thoughts imagine how it must be for Jack to hear me talk about everything that I’m thinking about. This kind of thought process combined with decreased memory is a complete disaster.

It’s all good with Jack as long as it’s not during the game.

It’s easy to keep a man happy.

Ouf! Big statement I just made there and I stand by it. Most men are clear about what they want and don’t want. Now whether or not we have the will to allow it…well that’s another thing.

Note I wrote “Most men”. I know a few men who seem pretty complicated from my point of view…

Games over, home team lost…

Got to go.

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Bump in the Night (Scary things kids do at night)

3 A’s are all asleep, Jack is in the basement cursing at the hockey game. How emotionally involved do you have to be to actually stand out of your seat and yell at the TV screen?  I can’t imagine myself doing that.

I’m sitting in the family room in the dark and A3 is falling asleep next to me on the couch. I’m typing away, I look up, I see a shadow, and my heart skips a beat.

It’s A1, just standing there staring at me.

Me: What are you doing? You scared me!

A1: I can’t sleep, what are you doing? Blog? Move I want to watch.

Me: Move? What move? Go upstairs back to bed. Or else… Or else, I won’t let you wear your pink shoes with your Easter dress and you’ll have to wear your black shoes!

A1: No!!! Plz!

She’s finally asleep, after “but I’m thirsty”, “but I need to pee”, then “Oh I forgot I already went to pee”, “but this pyjama makes me sweat” and tonight we have a new one “But these socks are too tight!”

Lately she’s been pulling this “I can’t sleep” sneaking up business. She’s so damn quiet! She scares the living crap out of us every single time. I get scared very easily, my imagination has a life of its own. That’s why I don’t watch scary movies.

 One night, a couple of years ago, in the middle of the night we heard a loud noise coming from A1’s bedroom. It woke us up “What the hell is that noise?” we wondered and quickly went to check it out.

OMG! Jack’s yelling at the top of his lungs! He’s going wake the whole house! What the hell is happening in that hockey game? (Sorry that was a side note)swing

What was I saying? Oh yeah, we went to see what was happening.  The baby swing that was set up in her room was swinging by itself, in the dark, in the middle of the night. It was the scariest thing. It kept swinging and swinging, harder and harder making a lot of noise. We were speechless just staring into that dark room. We thought surely, this house is haunted. We quickly turned on the light!

We looked at A1’s bed, it was empty!

We look back at the moving swing and we see A1 behind it, pushing wildly with all her might and a little doll neatly secured into the swing seat. She kept going for a few more seconds then suddenly stopped and went back into her bed without saying a word.

 Kids can be so spooky sometimes!

P.S I did well today: 3 meals, some exercise, even a short session of meditation.

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Thinking out loud

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, mind you I’m always thinking. My head doesn’t stop, I’m constantly thinking…about everything. What could’ve I done better today to be a better person, to be a better parent, to be a better wife. What should I do next, how can I be happier in life, how can I achieve more. When I wake up in the middle of the night for baby’s feedings, I  sit on the rocking chair with A3. I feed her and rock her back to sleep, all the while…I think.

I’ve had many revelations on that chair.thinking

I think a lot, but I like to think that I do a lot too. If you only knew what I’ve done this week…

The Cancer Fundraiser that I organized took place last Saturday. It was a real success only because of a great response from people. I have 3 kids and no time to sleep or eat, but I made time for this event because the cause  is very important to me. 3 kids or 10, it  doesn’t matter…I hope to do a fundraiser every year as I have for the past 5 years.

Since the event passed, I was supposed to rest. Rest? It doesn’t seem to be in my blood. I’m always up to something. Always.

I dream big, and I attack my dreams full force. Sometimes they’re good ideas, sometimes they’re bad ones. But no matter what it is I’m doing or trying to do, my mentality is that there’s no wrong in trying. Dream big, go ahead,  try it, what’s the worst that’s going to happen? Someone who tries has a better chance at success than someone who doesn’t, right ?

If you don’t take any chances, how can you know what your full potential is? It’s easy to be comfortable, it’s harder to try something new and explore the unknown. Let’s take this blog for example. I didn’t know what a blog was and I was frankly scared of the idea. Today after almost 2 months I have over 4000 views. (I don’t even know if that’s considered a little or a lot in this blogging world) but it was unknown, new and uncomfortable at first , but I did it anyways. ( Surely this is a minor example, but you get the point)

If you only knew what I did today…Jack doesn’t even  know…he’s going to be so mad.

If I end the post like this I’m going to hear it from my friend (spa girl). She complains to me if my posts don’t make her laugh. She read “Nothing here” (2 posts back) and told me “I didn’t like it, it didn’t make me laugh! Hurry and write another one” I tasked her” and what was the title of that post?” She replied “Nothing here!” so there!

One thing I love about spa girl, is that she always speaks her mind. So I actually get real feedback from her.

I write what I’m thinking, I can’t always be funny. But I will always be real.

See some bloggers write about things to attract an audience. I don’t want to do that. I want to write whatever I want and whoever wants can stay and read. We’ll see who’s with me til the end. I started a blog and since then have wondered its purpose. I still am not sure of it  but it’s definitely multi-faceted.

Don’t worry I’ll still fill you in on the mommy side of things .

For example, I googled  “green breast milk” last week. Not for the fun of it, but because it was actually green! Apparently it’s normal and it means there’s not a lot of fat in it. Lately I’ve also googled “abundant perspiration after pregnancy” again, not for the fun of it… I learned that it’s normal for women to perspire more than usual several weeks after pregnancy and longer if they are  breast feeding. If I knew this it would’ve saved me lots of trouble and worry. Another thing I googled  “Hair in baby’s eye”. If it happens to your baby, don’t panic, it will eventually come out on its own.

I’m a mommy of 3 trying to blog about real life and how to make the best of it.

Took me 2 months to figure this much out.

Who knows what another 2 months can bring.

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E-mail your questions or requests

It’s Sunday afternoon and I wish I had a chance to blog. So many topics have crossed my mind that I’ve been wanting to share but weekends are just too chaotic.

Some suggested I take questions by e-mail. So you can e-mail me at julietalk@live.ca

Jack’s eating mac and cheese out of the pot right now. He doesn’t trust the eggs anymore.

 

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Not Clean Per Se, Not Dirty Per Se

It’s past midnight. Everyone’s asleep…but me, of course. Why am I not sleeping? Because I’m on duty. Any minute now A3 is going to wake up and my free time is going to be over. What do I do with my time? BLOG

But not these past two weeks. Whenever I’ve had free time, I’ve been working on organizing a Fundraiser. Since I don’t have much free time, I haven’t had any time to blog. Don’t feel bad. Today I picked blogging over showering!

Actually, I take that back. I couldn’t have showered. (Could not have. I want to say couldn’t’ve…how to I write that? ) Basically, showering is not even a possibility right now, remember, A3 could wake up at any time. I can even hear her a bit.

I don’t like to use monitors; I like to hear what’s happening in the house. I like to be able to stop typing for a second and listen in. Stop.

Right now I hear A3’s breath, her respiration frequency is changing, she’s breathing faster. It means she’s waking up. I can hear Jack snoring and the rest are quiet, that’s a good sign. I can hear A3’s breath not because I’m super human, but because she’s 6 meters away. She’s in the den and I’m the living room.

Now someone who can imagine measurements might be thinking: What kind of den is only 6 meters away from a living room??

Well. The thing is. Our house doesn’t even have a den. It has a kitchen, a dining room and a living room. No Den. But I made one. I can’t even hit a nail in the wall but I turned the dining room into a family den.

Want to know how?  I put a couch and a TV in the “dining room”. Then, furnished half  the “living room”, as a dining room and the other half, as “clean” living room .

Not clean per se, but definitely cleaner then the Den.  You should see it….actually, you shouldn’t see it! Plastic on the furniture? Yeah, at this point, I should, to protect the people sitting on them.

They’re not dirty per se, it’s just that they’ve been through a lot. They’ve had three kids! Three kids dropping their water, their milk… try cleaning milk off a couch. Ok, you clean the couch’s surface. Then what? That milk has made it into the fibers of the couch , embedded like…you know what I’m thinking.

A1’s poop on A’3 onesie!  (Guys! Another inside joke!!  That’s the  second time this week!)

If Jack read this he would think I’m a total geek. I can already hear him in my head  “What inside joke?! You can’t have an inside joke with yourself!”  Lol (By the way, when I write “lol” it really means that I laughed out loud, like HaHaHa. More like Mhi,Mhi,Mhi. if I went HaHaHa A3 would wake up.)

The only person on a monitor right now is A2. To the readers who don’t know baby talk, a baby monitor is … I don’t know how to explain it.

So I googled the definition for “baby monitor” and guess what. It doesn’t exist!! Try it.

How would you explain to someone what a baby monitor is?

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Pump it up

A good friend messaged me on Facebook last night:

“No blog posted tonight…but you’re online so u must be typing…well I hope lol “

I wasn’t… if you only knew what I was doing.

I was online but couldn’t type because I had one hand busy.  I want to tell you what I was doing but I’m not sure if it’s crossing the line. It happens many times to me on Facebook to write up a status then decide to delete it before posting because I realize that I’m just speaking my mind and being shameless.

Now you’re trying to figure out what I was doing with one hand so let me tell you before you start getting ideas.

Ok. Here goes. I was on the electric breast pump.

So we’re going talk about breasts now… dear readers we have moved one step closer into our relationship…I hope you know this.

Ahhhh. Now that this topic is open, the possibilities are endless! Jack’s going to be so mad at me… he’s the one that reminds me not to make a fool out of myself. In respect to both Jack and I, we’re only going to treat this topic if it’s in the realm of breastfeeding or other children related topics.

So, yeahpump, I was holding the breast pump with one hand and surfing the net with the other. They talk about the breast pump as if it’s something normal. I’m here to tell you that’s it’s the worst thing ever! From the physical trauma to the simple idea of it, it’s pure torture. Plus they make the cup part transparent so you can see what’s actually happening to your sensitive extremities… (I don’t want to say the N word, so we can stay rated G). I assure you, that does not happen in a babies’ mouth while nursing!

A3 is only 3 months old and my milk supply has faded. I breastfed A1 and A2 for 6 months each. The milk supply ending is a direct result of my lack of sleep, my poor diet and overall exhaustion. Basically A3 is getting the short end of the stick because of her sisters and it seems like it’s going to be like that for her for a very long time. I mean poor thing has onesies with embedded poop stains on them. Not her poop… not A2’s poop, but A1’s poop from five years ago.

YOU SEE HOW I HAVE NO SHAME.

So I am trying to revive the milk flow by spending my evenings on the breast pump, by over eating and by drinking meal supplement protein shakes (on top of my meals).  Willing to gain weight for this baby…now this is love.

Dear male readers I hope you’re not traumatised by this post…

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Wake up and smell the …


Today I decided to get some cleaning done. Well it’s not only a matter of deciding, in order to do that two of my friends had to come over and help take care of A3 so that I could get started. I knew there wasn’t much time before A1 and 2 came back home from school and daycare.

First thing I did was take the time to smell the rooms out looking for rolled up dirty diapers or lost half full milk bottles.  Most times, while changing a diaper we’re doing something else at the same time, maybe mediating a dispute between the kids or trying to stop one of them from going up the stairs, down the stairs, in the cupboard, behind the curtains… When that diaper is changed, we quickly roll up the dirty one into a ball and throw it in or near the closest garbage can. Later we collect them and throw them away. On some occasions one gets lost or misplaced by the kids. A2 thinks a rolled up diaper is a ball meant to be played with. Can we blame her?diaper

One time, one found its way in the dirty laundry basket and ended up in the wash with the clothes. I found it when I was emptying the clothes out of the washer into the dryer. I found a swollen diaper. I could only hope it was a #1 filled diaper if you know what I mean…

Some end up rolling under the couch or under one of the beds. Many things end up rolling under there… mainly half full milk bottles. By the time we find them, the milk has turned into cheese. Washing those bottles is the worst part; the smell is so horrible that I sometimes give up after a few gags and just throw the bottle away.

Don’t judge me! We’re not dirty people, we’re just outnumbered! Back when we only had A1 we had time for so much more, we would do so many activities. A1 had been everywhere by the age of 1.

A2 hasn’t seen anything. Poor thing got sick a couple of weeks ago so we took her to the clinic and then the pharmacy for her antibiotics. When we walked into the pharmacy she was ecstatic! I don’t think she had ever been in a store before… High ceilings, lights and her favorite, creme bottles! Creme bottles everywhere! She gathered up as many bottles as she could, grabbed them in a bunch and started running in the isles. I just let her be and live a little. She was so happy.

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The hare and the Anniversary Special

Hare: n. Any of various mammals of the family Leporidae, especially of the genus Lepus, similar to rabbits but having longer ears and legs and giving birth to active, furred young. (thefreedictionnary.com)

Dishes, laundry and bathing three kids leaves mommy in a cold shower by the end of the evening. No more hot water.

Right before that, A1 asked to be read a story before bed. So I started:

“ I’m gonna tell you the story of the turtle and the, the hmmm… how do we say “lièvre” in english.”

A1: What’s that mommy?

Me : It’s a wild rabbit that runs fast.

A1: Oh! A kangaroo?

Me : No. Let’s ask daddy. DAAADDDYYY

Jack answers from across the hall “What!”

Me: How do you say “Lièvre” in English?

Jack: I dunno. Coyote ?

Btw as I wrote  this Jack came up behind me and said.egg

“Don’t post this; people are going think I’m stupid… You’re still going to post it aren’t you? Your blog is nothing without me!”

And he’s right the blog is about my life and he’s a big part of it. Since we’re talking about Jack, might as well continue.

In our house weekends are so chaotic that we rarely have time to eat, so I always prepare a bowl of hard-boiled eggs so we can at least have a quick dose of protein in a snack. Jack has made it a habit to crack the egg on his head. Yes you read right. He takes the boiled egg and he smashes it on his head. It’s partly to make the children laugh but he does it even when they’re not around.

So Saturday, on our anniversary, I decided to put one non-boiled egg in that bowl.

I think you can imagine the rest…

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