Tag Archives: hockey

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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“Stop saying you’re a Hockey wife, you’re not a hockey wife.”

Game 3 of the first round is over.

Jack is in one of these moods…

“Stop saying you’re a Hockey wife, you’re not a hockey wife.”

So he says that, then the press conference starts with the Team coach and I know better than to argue with him during something he really wants to listen to.

This is what makes me a Hockey wife. You don’t need to be married to a professional Hockey player, as soon as hockey enters your wifely role in any shape or form, you are a hockey wife. During the playoffs, we can’t put the kids to bed until the period ends… not only am I a hockey wife but our children are Hockey kids!

We’re still watching the press conference, now it’s the opposite team’s coach speaking. I try to listen to what he’s saying. I understand the words individually but have to clue of the general idea. I just look at Jack’s face to know what I should feel about what he’s saying.

Same way our kids look at us to decide of their own emotions. That’s why you shouldn’t flip out when you see a spider. I did that once and saw the fear on  A1’s face. To be honest I’m not even that afraid of spiders, I’m just afraid of what one might do with that spider. I rather get over the disgust and dispose of it myself, instead of being chased around the house by a certain someone holding the squished thing in a Kleenex threatening to feed it to me.

 

 

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Talking poop

Finally ! Some down time.

Jack is finally watching tonight’s game. It’s recorded so that he can watch it peacefully once the girls are sleeping. Last time we watched a game together, I asked too many questions and then really aggravated him when I said that the opposite team seem to be better skaters. “They glide better” I said, while our team was losing 5 to 1. Needless to say, I learned a new lesson.

Note to self: Do not say anything negative about the team during a bad game.

In fact, I should’ve stuck with simply not talking to him during the game. What was I thinking?

He was so emotional about it… jeez.

I’ve also learned that to keep our marriage happy I should only say half of the things I’m thinking to say. A less talkative me makes a much happier him.

Poor him he’s got 3 more to deal with, and they all seem to be growing up to be as talkative as me.

Today at the dinner table, A1 asked “Next time I sleep at granma’s I’m going to make cookies, do you think that’s a good idea, a bad idea, a very good idea, a very bad idea, a very very bad idea or a very very good idea?”

Waaaaaaaa? Again we just stand there without an answer. We lost you after “cookie” kid!

Last time at dinner, conversation was about Elephant Poo. “Do you think the Elephant poops this much?” A1 shows the size of a pile, “Or this much?” she show’s a bigger pile. Jack answers “Thiiiiiiiiis muuuuuuuuch!” even A2 was participating to the conversation, after all it was mostly sign language, and poo is a word she knows well.

Poo is a word we know well too. You expect to have to deal with poop when becoming a parent, but no one tells you that it will end up in your hair, on your face and under your socks at least once at some point of the process. You better wish it happens sooner than later, because the older they get, the more real their poop gets. When they’re new born and only drink milk, it barely qualifies as poop, it’s more like mud. It doesn’t even smell all that bad. But when they’re all food group eating toddlers….ooof!

I remember, a long time ago, when my grandmother was changing my bratty little brother’s poopy diaper, he wouldn’t stay put. Poor woman was left in sweats by the time she managed to get him cleaned up. She grabbed a wipe to wipe her face only to realize she had just used the dirty poopy wipe on her face.

I was 8, I laughed so hard not knowing life had similar plans reserved for me…

If someone’s ever scared you by running after you with a Kleenex containing a squished spider, a dirty diaper filled with stinking, hot S&*% is good payback.

Well, I just spent 260 words talking about crap. That’s why blogs are so great, anything goes!

I think next time I’ll write about farts. Oh! So much to say!

Btw after the last post I went to check on the kids and found this.DSC04415 - Copy

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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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What was I saying? Doesn’t matter, no one’s listening. Game’s on.

Kids are asleep and Jack’s watching the game, perfect time to blog.

After 4 days of all the kids being home, the house looks like a war zone. The good thing about this is that if a robber breaks into our house he’ll think that this house has already been robbed. Everything is on the floor! Cleaning will have to be for another day because I’m beat!

This tiredness is unlike any other, it feels like finally getting home after a long trip and then having to do it all over again, right away without any rest, then again and again for months and months,  years and years…

“Take it day by day” I hear.

I’m trying, I’m learning to not think too far ahead, but it’s hard. I can’t help but worry about everything. I guess you’ve got to take it day by day for the sake of sanity alone. Kind of like a prison sentence I guess…

“Did she just call motherhood a prison sentence?!”

No, that can’t be right. They let you sleep in prison. Well, in this country anyways.

Lately, my memory is shot and worse than ever. It helps to have taken pictures of everything because it helps me remember what we did. Easter weekend, a lot of dressing up, we usually spend our weekends in pyjamas. Not this weekend! I’ll have to look at the pictures to know what we actually did. It’s scary how quickly we all forget everything. What did you have for lunch yesterday? Can you remember?

It doesn’t count! You remember because it was Easter and you were out.

What did you do Friday night?

Well ?

I sure don’t have a clue!

Maybe I’m the only one? Where am I going with this?

I have to move, Jack’s looking for the remote. Jack’s always looking for something. Where are my glasses?  Where are my dentures?  Where is my toothbrush?  You would think he’s an 80 year old man.

Jack just asked: Why are you laughing by yourself?

He looked over and saw I wrote “Dentures”.

Jack: What are you doing? Don’t write that!

Me:  (hiding the screen) Just let me write what I’m thinking before I forget, then I’ll let you read, and we’ll post it if it’s ok with you.

(If you can read all this it means he approves)

What was I saying? The good thing about a blog is that you can read back and know what you were saying. Let me look back.,,

Oh ya, dentures. He calls his mouth guard dentures. He sleeps with that thing because he grinds his teeth at night. A1 does too, in the worse kind of way. It sounds like she’s cracking candy with her teeth all night.

I’ve got to say, I can’t blame him for losing his toothbrush. A2 has a thing for toothbrushes, she’s attached to them just like some kids are attached to blankets or stuffed animals. We’ve bought her a few toothbrushes; she always has one with her but she keeps losing them. So we’re always looking for her toothbrushes.

Basically we’re all always looking for something. I sometimes find myself walking around the house looking for something, and having to stop because I can’t remember what I was looking for.

So when A2’s throwing a fit and I have to give her a toothbrush and can’t find any of hers I give her Jack’s.

Jack: Where’s my toothbrush?

Me: I’m not sure…maybe in the car?

Right this moment Jack’s getting mad at me because he’s been talking to me and it seems I wasn’t listening. I was busy writing about his toothbrush.

It’s ok, he does this to me all the time. Just earlier, while he was watching the game:

Jack: Where are my glasses?

Me: In our bedroom, behind the curtain of the middle window. Hello? Are you listening?

Jack nods while frozen standing in front of the TV : ya ya

Me: I just told you where your glasses are, you didn’t listen and now I’m going downstairs.

Jack: Wait! Where you going? I asked you where my glasses were?!

Me: Why do you ask a question if you’re not going to listen to the answer?

Jack: Huh? Leave me alone, I’m watching the game!

While he squints at the screen because he can’t see properly without his glasses.

Yesterday while we were driving home from somewhere…I don’t remember where, I would have to check the camera to remember. I asked Jack:

“What’s the most important thing a girl that doesn’t know anything about hockey, should know?”

His reply was something like this:

“First thing’s first. Names, teams, numbers, dates don’t matter. All she needs to know is not to bother the guy during the game. No talking, no arguments and especially no turning off the TV during the game!”

I did that once, I turned the TV off while he was watching the game. Not only that, I pulled the plug off the digital cable box so that it can take time to reload…yes…evil…I know.

We were newlyweds then, I’ve learned a lot since then. I would never do that today. I’ve learned to leave him alone during the game, and I wait for intermissions to talk to him. Unless he asks me where his glasses are!!

I mostly blog while he watches the game, this way I don’t bother him. Then at the commercials he starts talking to me and gets mad if I’m not listening…

Ok games over. We won. Jack will be in a good mood tonight.

Yey for me!

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