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Night After Night, Day After Day

Written Tuesday night.

It’s 9:30 pm and I woke up 5 minutes ago on the floor of my kids’ bedroom. It was 8:30 when I took A1 and A2 upstairs for bed, A3 was already asleep, they brushed their teeth then fought over the stool to reach the sink. We settled that by seating one child on the steps of the bathtub “look there’s water here too, you can brush your teeth here”, of course they got water everywhere and wet their socks, we lost more time trying to find the perfect pair of socks because two year olds feel the little strings touching their toes and only one out of six pairs of will do. Finally get them in their room, ever since we moved A3 out of the walk in closet A1 and A2 have been sharing a room. They get in bed and then “please stay a bit”, they always ask me to stay and lie down for a while, and so I do. I must admit, as tired as I may be, that is one my most blissful moments of the day, that and giving A3 her last bottle of the day while sitting on the rocking chair.

I make such an effort to try and seize the moment, but it can be hard. Sometimes I watch old videos and I wonder where my mind was and how I missed what was happening right in front of my eyes. Lately, when I recognize a moment, I try to capture it in my mind with the most details possible from visual details to thoughts and emotions.

Last time I did this was a few weeks ago, we took the kids to the park and there was so much snow yet the swings were still up. We put A3 and A2 in the baby swings and A1 and I were on the regular swings. Jack was pushing the little ones, and all were singing and shouting. It was just one of these perfect moments. I grew in a house right across a park, and so I’ve spent a lot of time on a swing, even as a teenager it was where I went to think. So one day I’m 16, going oh so high, holding tightly onto the chains, closing my eyes, imagining that I am flying. And when I open my eyes, 15 years have passed and I’m still on the swing, except this time I am surrounded by these children, and this wonderful man, it is a beautiful sunny day and life is beautiful.

Once again I have shifted off topic and don’t even know what the initial story is, I need a moment to go back and read…

Oh ya, putting the kids to bed… oh this is going to be a long post….

So they ask me to stay, then A2 asks for a story, always the same story, the three little pigs and always the same part, when the wolf burns his butt going down the chimney. She doesn’t want to hear the rest, only that part, so we start at “the two little pigs ran into their pig brother’s house of bricks…” once that’s done, she always asks for another story, and it’s always the same one “goldilocks and the three bears” and always the same part, she only wants to hear about how goldilocks broke baby bear’s chair. Come to think of it she only likes the burning and breaking… what the heck? How did I never realize?

So then when story time is over I try to leave but they ask me to stay some more. And how can I refuse, one day they’ll be teenagers asking me to close the door on my way out of their room. So I stay a bit more, and sometimes I fall asleep. And this time, I fell asleep and forgot that I’m at the edge of my daughter’s bed drooling on a pink and purple lady bug pillow. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just know I woke up on the floor. I got up and started heading for the door when A2 asked “where are you going?” now you might think of me as a hypocrite, but as much as I love being with my kids, sometimes I have to put a limit. So I told her a little white lie. “Mommy’s going to the bathroom to do caca, and I’ll b back when I’m finished”. Of course I used caca so that she doesn’t expect me back in 30 seconds and hopefully falls asleep while waiting for me. A1 clearly understands this concept and is aware that it’s a lie to keep A2 from throwing a fit, we’ve had a talk about it. “You know when mommy says that she’s going to the bathroom and that she’ll be back? Well, truth is…”

It’s a similar scenario every night ever since I’ve been back at work. By the time we finish work, pick up the kids, feed them, change them and bathe them, we are finisheeeeeed. I usually wobble out of the girls’ bed room after they’ve finally fallen asleep and literally crash in my bed only to wake up a few hours later to remove my bra or socks and pass out again until that dream crushing alarm starts again at 5:15 am. Day after day, night after night.

Oui, c’est la vie. But what can I say other than, just go with it and all will be well.

All that matters is that we are happy, we are healthy, we are grateful.

 

 

 

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Chicken Boobs: daily realities.

What’s these kids’ obsession with lifting up shirts and poking belly buttons ? Sure it’s cute, but these kids have no boundaries. They don’t understand that it might be ok when
we’re home playing on the couch, but when we’re in public mama doesn’t want the world to see her new 3 x baby belly. My poor belly button who use to be a inny has been so stretched and pushed during three pregnancies that it’s lost in it’s identity and has now found itself to be an outy that’s inside.
I have a girlfriend who has a belly button like that and when we were younger I would always tell her how I thought it was super sexy. So life plays this funny joke on me and flips my belly button inside out and then adds three kids poking at it daily just to remind me to just be grateful for what i have, because now I have the outty inny and there’s nothing sexy about it!
As thin as I get, as much weight as I loose post pregnancy, my body will maintain proof of motherhood. I have to embrace this. Just like war scars. It makes us who we are, signs of life, adventure, wisdom…
I’m just trying to convince myself here.
Who are we kidding. It’s bye bye bikini forever….
Then again, why would I be afraid of a bikini on the beach when my children have exposed me in clinic waiting rooms, at school, in restaurants and everywhere else we go. ” Why do you let them?” One might ask. I know better than to resist the shirt lift. If you stop them they’ll go straight for the bra. You’re sitting there talking to someone while your child is pulling down your shirt looking for your bra and then putts their hands right in there. Right in the middle, and then they wiggle their hands to get more depth, to get really deep in there. I think they like the heat, like baby chicks under their mommy chicken.
And we just sit there carrying on the conversation like normal with an exposed belly and little hands down our shirts. And we’re afraid of bikinis…pffft!

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