There were many nights when My Dad took me and my brother to the park after dinner when we were school-aged. Not only did we play, but he also brought a plastic grocery bag in his pocket and had us help pick up broken glass and garbage around the playground area, making sure it was safe for us kids but also for the other kids, and clean as well. It's surprising to me what a small/BIG thing like this can do for you as an adult. I pretty much learned right there and then that it's not up to the CITY to clean up the parks, it's up to everyone. I learned that you take care of your community, the spaces that you play in, and that everyone can do their part. I realize this sounds like a David Suzuki/Al Gore/1990 Blue Box commercial, but this is neither an environmental lessen, nor a discipline lesson. This is a lesson of if there is a problem, Yo I'll solve it. Check out my Hook while my DJ Revolves it.
Ahemmm. Sorry about that. That was far too easy.
Back on track: This was a lesson of Get your hands dirty. Bend down. Help, even when its not always fun. Contribute something to your community. It's not always about calling the city, starting a petition, or lobbying an MP (sometimes it is), but it's about "just doing it" and leading by example. Put your hands in the dirt and help. This I learned from a young age and has done wonders for me as an adult,so thanks, Dad!
Yesterday was Father's Day and we got together at my parent's house for dinner to celebrate. My aunt from Conneticut was visiting and we had a nice time together. This was pretty much my little slice of heaven on earth right there and then. In Summary, Family was all together, it was hot and sunny out, the kids were happy and behaving, and we were eating food. Pure perfection can also be summed up by Adam's chunky legs sticking out of a diaper, wearing a muscle shirt and running around with ketchup on his face. Pure. Perfection. Somebody pooped themselves into oblivion, and although I won't name names, it wasn't one of the adults (we are always thankful for that). We had a nice bbq dinner and my brother and myself had Round 2 of a game that we made up last month in my parent's backyard that should be classified somewhere in the redneck category.
I don't even know how this game started but it involves an open racoon trap (you read that right), a soccer ball, and a tennis ball. Racoon trap is open and balancing on top of a soccer ball so that the opening is angled upwards a bit. We kneel on a chair cushion about 15 feet back or so and launch fore-mentioned tennis ball into trap. Best 5 out of 5 throws. We are THAT sophisticated, people. I think my brother won, but in all fairness I had a 24 pound toddler feverishly crawling in between my legs at the time (I was kneeling so you can sense how dignified this was). That's the great thing about bbq's. You can pretty much make a game out of anything, including large vermin traps, shoes, buckets, small children, and wheelbarrows. Pick any combination of those and I'll make you up a game. Done and Done.
Speaking of hillbilly games, atleast I don't get kicks out of shooting beavers and launching them onto my mother in laws front porch, eh Ryan Jaspers? Ooops, did I write your full name. My bad;)
That's MY brother in law, so I can do that, you see.
I've got nothing else for you right now. We had a lovely day yesterday so I guess that's the point I was trying to make. The days are busy and fun and we are outdoors most of the time these days. Freezies and juiceboxes for life, yo.
Have a wonderful day.
Monday, 17 June 2013
Monday, 10 June 2013
Little Boys: There's nothing better!
I was at the park with the boys on the weekend. And I watched a little girl, the same age as my twins, walk up to a little boy, hug him without being asked, and then stole his swing. And I was like now that's how it's done, sister! Well played!
I think I was more shocked at the fact that she just walked up to a child she barely knew, showed him affection like it was her job, then walked on. If one of my boys walked up to another child or toddler and just gave him or her a hug or a kiss, I would literally choke on the vat of coffee I am drinking these days (It's getting a bit excessive. Is this normal?)
My boys are touchy and affectionate, certainly, but not with other children or strangers, so whenever a little girl is around, I almost always watch with amazement on how they interact, play, and how they almost always love puppy purses. I don't care who you are, there is nothing better than a tiny little girl with a purse with a big plush animal face sewn onto it. End of story. In fact, ifCoach Walmart made one, I'm certain I could make that work with my cargo capris and flip flops, right?
But all I know is boys. And trust me when I say they are the BEST. Tonight, I actually amused myself by putting all three in the bath at the same timebecause I love to torture myself just for the fun of it. There were some rules explained right off the bat. Just a few, you know, like You stay there, you stay there, and you stay there. Don't pull the plug out. Don't push each other. Don't touch the taps you will burn to death. Don't drown your brothers that would be sad. Don't throw the soaking wet washcloth outside of the tub. Don't soak Mom. Don't drink the bathwater because that's disgusting. Don't drink the bottle of soap because that will act like an enema. And speaking of enemas, Don't poo in the tub.
They were so funny tonight though, but absolutely so BOY. The three of them laughed hysterically at Adam who had his finger way up his nose in the bath and the other two laughed every time he did it. This got all of them going. And by the time I knew what was happening, all three are playing a game called how far can I get my finger up my nose. The laughter was unbelievable. Then this led to a new activity we were suddenly laughing at: gagging ourselves just for giggles apparently. All three of them sticking their fingers down their throat to make that retching sound. Just awful! Suddenly, Adam is bordering on puking up his supper from sticking his finger down his throat and that's when I called it quits. After drying off, they all go onto my oldest son's bed, butt naked and squeaky clean, to jump and roll and leap and frolic around the pillows and blankets. If you ever want to see the definition of cuteness, it's three skinny little boys and their bare bums jumping on a bed after a bath.
Sometimes when I see a little toddler girl get up, bum first, with the skirt falling all inappropriately over her head, exposing those bloomer underpants things, I twinge a little with jealousy, but when these boys smell like soap, kiss me on the nose, and hug me with their little pipe cleaner arms, it's all good in the hood. There's nothing better.
Nighty Night.
I think I was more shocked at the fact that she just walked up to a child she barely knew, showed him affection like it was her job, then walked on. If one of my boys walked up to another child or toddler and just gave him or her a hug or a kiss, I would literally choke on the vat of coffee I am drinking these days (It's getting a bit excessive. Is this normal?)
My boys are touchy and affectionate, certainly, but not with other children or strangers, so whenever a little girl is around, I almost always watch with amazement on how they interact, play, and how they almost always love puppy purses. I don't care who you are, there is nothing better than a tiny little girl with a purse with a big plush animal face sewn onto it. End of story. In fact, if
But all I know is boys. And trust me when I say they are the BEST. Tonight, I actually amused myself by putting all three in the bath at the same time
They were so funny tonight though, but absolutely so BOY. The three of them laughed hysterically at Adam who had his finger way up his nose in the bath and the other two laughed every time he did it. This got all of them going. And by the time I knew what was happening, all three are playing a game called how far can I get my finger up my nose. The laughter was unbelievable. Then this led to a new activity we were suddenly laughing at: gagging ourselves just for giggles apparently. All three of them sticking their fingers down their throat to make that retching sound. Just awful! Suddenly, Adam is bordering on puking up his supper from sticking his finger down his throat and that's when I called it quits. After drying off, they all go onto my oldest son's bed, butt naked and squeaky clean, to jump and roll and leap and frolic around the pillows and blankets. If you ever want to see the definition of cuteness, it's three skinny little boys and their bare bums jumping on a bed after a bath.
Sometimes when I see a little toddler girl get up, bum first, with the skirt falling all inappropriately over her head, exposing those bloomer underpants things, I twinge a little with jealousy, but when these boys smell like soap, kiss me on the nose, and hug me with their little pipe cleaner arms, it's all good in the hood. There's nothing better.
Nighty Night.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
Anarchy in the Bacon Aisle
I wish I knew where this blog post was headed. I usually have no idea until I write it. Even right now I don't have a title for it, but the few things that come to mind are something along the lines of Lord of the Flies comes to No Frills, or Anarchy in the Bacon Aisle, or Why Do My Children Insist on Making It Rain with Toilet Water?
Tonight I set foot in No Frills. And OH DEAR ME was this ever an experience I would like to never replicate EVER in my entire life. Ever.
I often hear about good sales from my friends who shop there, and so tonight I thought I would skip out, child-free, to WHIZ IN AND WHIZ OUT out of a grocery store, maybe catch a few bargains, and just be done with it. If you aren't familiar with the No Frills chain of grocery store, it's exactly what it says: there are no frills. There are very few staff, you bag your own groceries, and everything is just sort of haphazardly placed all around the store. Quite frankly I have never seen anything like it.
I understand what they are doing though; they are keeping costs down for the average shopper by eliminating overhead costs on excess employees for bagging, stocking, and extra presentation costs. And I absolutely get that, you do what you have to do, and I can certainly appreciate a bargain now and then, but I also like to shop in a place where I am absolutely certain someone isn't going to shove a huge boulder down a shopping aisle and kill me good and solid just like that. I would also like to think that if my boys were ever to work in a grocery store, that the employees wouldn't be skateboarding on a wheeled trolley cart down the cracker aisle in order to stock the top shelves and then whistle at the mother of three shopping in flip flops with noodles on her pants (this did in fact happen tonight and trust me it was not a compliment........ok maybe it was a little. Hey you take it where you can get it these days, eh?:)).
There were six thousand people in the store tonight. The aisles are three feet wide with three and a half feet wide shopping carts. Yes, you do the math. That right there is what I like to call a tight squeeze. There was one time when I really just wanted to pack it all in and run far, far away when five shoppers, all with carts, came to a bottleneck stop in front of the bacon and no one could figure out what to do or how on earth we were going to get out of this tangled mess. If there had been an eject button on the cured meat shelf, I just might have taken that route.
At the very beginning of the night the only way for me to get a working shopping cart, not the one with the directionally challenged front left wheel that gives you very justified rage issues, but an actual one that moved forward, was to look for one of the carts that had been ditched mid-shop in the middle of the store. This is what I mean by Lord of the Flies. There were no rules. Anything goes here apparently.
I did my shop faster than I normally would, then came home to Adam running around upstairs with a piece of bread hanging out of his mouth and his arms waving above his head (excited about finishing off his dinner, maybe?), Noah standing stark naked in two inches of bath water throwing a wet basketball around the bathroom and Gabe beside him intermittently laughing hysterically at the ball ricocheting off every wall, but also making it rain with toilet water all over the floor, his shirt, and his hair at the same time. And I thought oh man I'm not sure this is any more civilized, but I'll take it. They were happy and smiling and laughing, even if they were dripping in toilet water. Every day is a new day around here. Every day is exciting inside and outside our home.
Sweet Dreams Everyone.
Tonight I set foot in No Frills. And OH DEAR ME was this ever an experience I would like to never replicate EVER in my entire life. Ever.
I often hear about good sales from my friends who shop there, and so tonight I thought I would skip out, child-free, to WHIZ IN AND WHIZ OUT out of a grocery store, maybe catch a few bargains, and just be done with it. If you aren't familiar with the No Frills chain of grocery store, it's exactly what it says: there are no frills. There are very few staff, you bag your own groceries, and everything is just sort of haphazardly placed all around the store. Quite frankly I have never seen anything like it.
I understand what they are doing though; they are keeping costs down for the average shopper by eliminating overhead costs on excess employees for bagging, stocking, and extra presentation costs. And I absolutely get that, you do what you have to do, and I can certainly appreciate a bargain now and then, but I also like to shop in a place where I am absolutely certain someone isn't going to shove a huge boulder down a shopping aisle and kill me good and solid just like that. I would also like to think that if my boys were ever to work in a grocery store, that the employees wouldn't be skateboarding on a wheeled trolley cart down the cracker aisle in order to stock the top shelves and then whistle at the mother of three shopping in flip flops with noodles on her pants (this did in fact happen tonight and trust me it was not a compliment........ok maybe it was a little. Hey you take it where you can get it these days, eh?:)).
There were six thousand people in the store tonight. The aisles are three feet wide with three and a half feet wide shopping carts. Yes, you do the math. That right there is what I like to call a tight squeeze. There was one time when I really just wanted to pack it all in and run far, far away when five shoppers, all with carts, came to a bottleneck stop in front of the bacon and no one could figure out what to do or how on earth we were going to get out of this tangled mess. If there had been an eject button on the cured meat shelf, I just might have taken that route.
At the very beginning of the night the only way for me to get a working shopping cart, not the one with the directionally challenged front left wheel that gives you very justified rage issues, but an actual one that moved forward, was to look for one of the carts that had been ditched mid-shop in the middle of the store. This is what I mean by Lord of the Flies. There were no rules. Anything goes here apparently.
I did my shop faster than I normally would, then came home to Adam running around upstairs with a piece of bread hanging out of his mouth and his arms waving above his head (excited about finishing off his dinner, maybe?), Noah standing stark naked in two inches of bath water throwing a wet basketball around the bathroom and Gabe beside him intermittently laughing hysterically at the ball ricocheting off every wall, but also making it rain with toilet water all over the floor, his shirt, and his hair at the same time. And I thought oh man I'm not sure this is any more civilized, but I'll take it. They were happy and smiling and laughing, even if they were dripping in toilet water. Every day is a new day around here. Every day is exciting inside and outside our home.
Sweet Dreams Everyone.
Monday, 3 June 2013
The day I got out-negotiated by my 3 year old.
A few years ago I worked with a woman who was born in the Czech Republic. She had some pretty cool, yet different, ideas on parenting and so I listened to her with open ears, hoping to hear something enlightening and helpful as we did our thing. I remember her telling me that she gave her older boys, who were pre-teens at the time, five dollars for every "A" they got on a test. They were then told to bank that money. They also got a proper allowance. This woman explained to me that where she came from this was commonplace to pay children for good grades because it taught them that in reality, in a grown-up world, you will get paid in the end for being smart, for excelling, and for hard-work. I thought well isn't that interesting.
I haven't reached the point where I've given too much thought about these issues, like chores, allowances, and rewards for grades. I have no idea whether I'm just going to outline expectations for chores and the kids just "do it" without rewards/allowance, or whether they will get something as a result of a job well-done. Bottom line is, and main message you will get from this post today, is that I, like you, have no idea what I'm honestly doing at any given point in any day. End of story.
I like to pretend I do though. Sometimes. When it feels right. But Most days I'm parenting from a little book called "Flying by the Seat of my Pants and Skin of My Teeth: First Edition. By. S.R. Jaspers".
I had read something about getting your children to complete small chores from a very young age and you can apparently start at 3. For 3 year olds you can ask them to tidy toys, put plates and juice cups in the sink, and dress themselves. And, you know what, you absolutely can. And so I have been giving this some thought. The other day there was so much to do around the house and the living room was full of toys that were brought up from downstairs, and about 12 pairs of shoes in the front hall way were scattered around like it was a 16 year old girl's closet.
So I asked Noah, my 3 year old, to tidy all the toys up and also tidy the shoes in the front hall way and he would get a nickel! He loves nickels because they are shiny and also because they have a beaver on them and he carries it around all day. If I knew housework was so cheap by the way, I would have hired a 3 year old a long time ago, just for your information.
But the child is smart. He out-negotiated me on this. He said, not for a nickel, nooo nooo, but for 10 Chocolate Chips! As if. Brilliant kid. And you know what, I think I'm in charge most days, and then my child out-negotiates me for exactly what he wants and I realize who is really running the show.
I was in need of help getting stuff done that day so I agreed. And you know what? I have never seen a boy so pleasantly and dilingently clean up toys and shoes IN MY LIFE. He was so proud of himself. He took his time, did it properly. And after that he got his chocolate chips and sat at the table and enjoyed every last one with a little smile on his face.
I don't know whether to say this was an epic parenting failure. Or a success. The jury is still out on that one. Have a great day everyone. -S
I haven't reached the point where I've given too much thought about these issues, like chores, allowances, and rewards for grades. I have no idea whether I'm just going to outline expectations for chores and the kids just "do it" without rewards/allowance, or whether they will get something as a result of a job well-done. Bottom line is, and main message you will get from this post today, is that I, like you, have no idea what I'm honestly doing at any given point in any day. End of story.
I like to pretend I do though. Sometimes. When it feels right. But Most days I'm parenting from a little book called "Flying by the Seat of my Pants and Skin of My Teeth: First Edition. By. S.R. Jaspers".
I had read something about getting your children to complete small chores from a very young age and you can apparently start at 3. For 3 year olds you can ask them to tidy toys, put plates and juice cups in the sink, and dress themselves. And, you know what, you absolutely can. And so I have been giving this some thought. The other day there was so much to do around the house and the living room was full of toys that were brought up from downstairs, and about 12 pairs of shoes in the front hall way were scattered around like it was a 16 year old girl's closet.
So I asked Noah, my 3 year old, to tidy all the toys up and also tidy the shoes in the front hall way and he would get a nickel! He loves nickels because they are shiny and also because they have a beaver on them and he carries it around all day. If I knew housework was so cheap by the way, I would have hired a 3 year old a long time ago, just for your information.
But the child is smart. He out-negotiated me on this. He said, not for a nickel, nooo nooo, but for 10 Chocolate Chips! As if. Brilliant kid. And you know what, I think I'm in charge most days, and then my child out-negotiates me for exactly what he wants and I realize who is really running the show.
I was in need of help getting stuff done that day so I agreed. And you know what? I have never seen a boy so pleasantly and dilingently clean up toys and shoes IN MY LIFE. He was so proud of himself. He took his time, did it properly. And after that he got his chocolate chips and sat at the table and enjoyed every last one with a little smile on his face.
I don't know whether to say this was an epic parenting failure. Or a success. The jury is still out on that one. Have a great day everyone. -S
Thursday, 30 May 2013
Air Travel with Toddlers, herniated discs, and casting spells.
I took one of the twins to visit family in Thunder Bay this past weekend. We went on an airplane, and after a did a bit of a count, I realized this is my seventh or eighth flight with a toddler/baby/young child in tow. So, when you've done it a number of times, you sort of feel like you might have seen a few things, learned a few things, and gotten the hang of a few things along the way. This includes, but is not limited to, the puking I did after the dreadful flight experience we had at Christmas time that you can read about HERE.
So this post is specifically for those who are looking at travelling on a plane with a small child, whether this be by yourself, or with help. And these are my very specific tips. None of this Feed- the-child-on-the-way-up-and-on-the-way-down business. Most of us know that already. This is more of a what to do what you get peed on on the way UP kind of post.
First tip: snacks are always good on the plane. You can basically take whatever liquids and whatever food you want for your tot. I would highly suggest you don't hide a syringe in your Nutella sandwich for your child though, or your food will be confiscated. And secondly don't bring the Nutella sandwich anyways. Chocolate on sticky hands in a two feet by two feet space does not equal a happy mother, or flight attendant. Clean snacks are good, ones that are different and novel are good, fruit loops worked for me like a charm because let's not even lie here THEY ARE TASTY LITTLE BUGGERS, aren't they? Also, avoid yogurts and applesauce cups if you have a "fist dipper". Adam is my fist dipper. He likes to throw the spoon far far away and eat with a closed fist. I have no idea why, but this quickly resulted in the man behind me and the lady beside me handing me Air Canada napkins at a very furious speed.
Second tip: Bring a minimal amount of toys. I usually don't even bring toys. I usually bring one or two books for when things get dicey. You will be pleasantly surprised at how interesting the airplane magazines can be (flipping, crinkling, ripping pages), how fun a plastic airplane cup can be when you put cheerios inside/outside/inside/outside the cup, and how captivating the middle-aged man behind you playing peekaboo can be. Bless the people around us on planes that understand we sometimes need that.
Third tip: Dehydrate yourself. Those thoughts you have about enjoying a large Starbucks coffee before the flight because you have some time to sit and you certainly could use a bit of a caffeine kickstart is a poor, poor idea. I have learned this the hard way. I usually don't drink anything at the airport now and I use the washroom as much as I can. This also means if the flight is two hours or under, I don't drink on the plane either. Would I love to open one of their cute bottles of Perrier or have a nice hot coffee or icey can of Coke? of course I would. But it isn't worth making the trip to that rinky dink bathroom on the plane especially if said-toddler just fell asleep. You don't want to be in that position. Also, speaking of positions. I have had the luxury/TERROR of bringing a toddler into the small airplane bathroom with me when there was no one around to help, and this results in a lot of yelling by them because they are terrified of the noise and the small space, not to mention the only place for you to put them down is right in between your legs so that they are two centimeters away from a stream of urine. I don't advise this. If you must use the facilities, ask a friendly passenger that you have gotten to know to hold the child (you'd be surprised on how lovely people really are), or the flight attendants. Usually they are rock solid.
Fourth tip: when things start to get sour on the plane and the child is getting fussy. I suggest ringing the call bell above, putting on your life vest, and launching yourself out the window.
No no. I kid. I've noticed that most toddlers/young children, about an hour or more into the flight, really start to fuss and it's usually because they are tired. I've watched all three of my boys do this on different flights. So when it's time for a sleep, I usually just hold them upright on my lap and let them face forward like in their carseat. There will be a period of time though where they fight back/fight the sleep/thrash around and it's not always pretty. You pretty much have to ride that wave of fussiness until it's over, and it will end with them getting really still and slumping over in a heap like a puppy.
Fifth tip: Keep everything close by. What I do now is as soon as I get in my seat, I unload all the snacks, juice, two diapers, wipes, books into the pouch right in front of me. Trust me on this. The last thing you want to do is suffer a herniated disc trying to reach down to your bag or up to the storage compartment for a sippy cup. Keep it all close by and NOT in the diaper bag below your feet. You will thank me for this, and your future orthopaedic surgeon/chiro/massage therapist will thank me for this as well.
A quick list of SPECIFIC things to bring:
-Fruit Loops by the fist full, or nuts and bolts because it takes them forever to eat them and they love them (who doesn't??!!). I'm not saying you necessarily feed these to your children at home all the time, but trust me on this, sugary awesome finger snacks that they have to eat one by one and takes them all day is WHERE IT IS AT. Leave your organic rice crackers at home.
-Tablet or phone with super fun apps for the kids
-Receiving blanket even if your children are older. It makes a great towel, bib, wipe. This I used when I got peed on during our take off
-two books
-the obvious comfort items
-this is KEY: a change of shirt for you and for the child. You and him/her with be filthy dirty.
-2 juice boxes. One for yourself. A tad messy but they love the straw. The straw goes in the hole the straw goes out of the hole, the straw is fun to chew on, wave around, cast spells with, etc.
Hopefully this helps someone along the way.
Ok, that's enough from me today. Have a good weekend everyone.
So this post is specifically for those who are looking at travelling on a plane with a small child, whether this be by yourself, or with help. And these are my very specific tips. None of this Feed- the-child-on-the-way-up-and-on-the-way-down business. Most of us know that already. This is more of a what to do what you get peed on on the way UP kind of post.
First tip: snacks are always good on the plane. You can basically take whatever liquids and whatever food you want for your tot. I would highly suggest you don't hide a syringe in your Nutella sandwich for your child though, or your food will be confiscated. And secondly don't bring the Nutella sandwich anyways. Chocolate on sticky hands in a two feet by two feet space does not equal a happy mother, or flight attendant. Clean snacks are good, ones that are different and novel are good, fruit loops worked for me like a charm because let's not even lie here THEY ARE TASTY LITTLE BUGGERS, aren't they? Also, avoid yogurts and applesauce cups if you have a "fist dipper". Adam is my fist dipper. He likes to throw the spoon far far away and eat with a closed fist. I have no idea why, but this quickly resulted in the man behind me and the lady beside me handing me Air Canada napkins at a very furious speed.
Second tip: Bring a minimal amount of toys. I usually don't even bring toys. I usually bring one or two books for when things get dicey. You will be pleasantly surprised at how interesting the airplane magazines can be (flipping, crinkling, ripping pages), how fun a plastic airplane cup can be when you put cheerios inside/outside/inside/outside the cup, and how captivating the middle-aged man behind you playing peekaboo can be. Bless the people around us on planes that understand we sometimes need that.
Third tip: Dehydrate yourself. Those thoughts you have about enjoying a large Starbucks coffee before the flight because you have some time to sit and you certainly could use a bit of a caffeine kickstart is a poor, poor idea. I have learned this the hard way. I usually don't drink anything at the airport now and I use the washroom as much as I can. This also means if the flight is two hours or under, I don't drink on the plane either. Would I love to open one of their cute bottles of Perrier or have a nice hot coffee or icey can of Coke? of course I would. But it isn't worth making the trip to that rinky dink bathroom on the plane especially if said-toddler just fell asleep. You don't want to be in that position. Also, speaking of positions. I have had the luxury/TERROR of bringing a toddler into the small airplane bathroom with me when there was no one around to help, and this results in a lot of yelling by them because they are terrified of the noise and the small space, not to mention the only place for you to put them down is right in between your legs so that they are two centimeters away from a stream of urine. I don't advise this. If you must use the facilities, ask a friendly passenger that you have gotten to know to hold the child (you'd be surprised on how lovely people really are), or the flight attendants. Usually they are rock solid.
Fourth tip: when things start to get sour on the plane and the child is getting fussy. I suggest ringing the call bell above, putting on your life vest, and launching yourself out the window.
No no. I kid. I've noticed that most toddlers/young children, about an hour or more into the flight, really start to fuss and it's usually because they are tired. I've watched all three of my boys do this on different flights. So when it's time for a sleep, I usually just hold them upright on my lap and let them face forward like in their carseat. There will be a period of time though where they fight back/fight the sleep/thrash around and it's not always pretty. You pretty much have to ride that wave of fussiness until it's over, and it will end with them getting really still and slumping over in a heap like a puppy.
Fifth tip: Keep everything close by. What I do now is as soon as I get in my seat, I unload all the snacks, juice, two diapers, wipes, books into the pouch right in front of me. Trust me on this. The last thing you want to do is suffer a herniated disc trying to reach down to your bag or up to the storage compartment for a sippy cup. Keep it all close by and NOT in the diaper bag below your feet. You will thank me for this, and your future orthopaedic surgeon/chiro/massage therapist will thank me for this as well.
A quick list of SPECIFIC things to bring:
-Fruit Loops by the fist full, or nuts and bolts because it takes them forever to eat them and they love them (who doesn't??!!). I'm not saying you necessarily feed these to your children at home all the time, but trust me on this, sugary awesome finger snacks that they have to eat one by one and takes them all day is WHERE IT IS AT. Leave your organic rice crackers at home.
-Tablet or phone with super fun apps for the kids
-Receiving blanket even if your children are older. It makes a great towel, bib, wipe. This I used when I got peed on during our take off
-two books
-the obvious comfort items
-this is KEY: a change of shirt for you and for the child. You and him/her with be filthy dirty.
-2 juice boxes. One for yourself. A tad messy but they love the straw. The straw goes in the hole the straw goes out of the hole, the straw is fun to chew on, wave around, cast spells with, etc.
Hopefully this helps someone along the way.
Ok, that's enough from me today. Have a good weekend everyone.
Tuesday, 21 May 2013
Twins, A Bit of Patience...and other things that don't go together.
When we first announced we were expecting twins, most of our close friends and family reportedly had a good laugh at our expense. We hear now, 2 years later, that this was quite funny to most people, friends and family alike, who knew us both super well. We were told things like "it had to be you" and "it could only be you two". Our response, usually with one eyebrow up and a crinkled forehead and stabbing eyes, was PLEASE DO TELL ME WHY IT HAD TO BE US? Go ahead as I'm double bottle feeding two small children at the same time, while I itch my nose with my big toe. Enlighten Me. Please.
Ya see, we were told it had to be us because we were the types that like to have everything under control. Everything was planned out. Everything was on our time, on our watch, when we allowed it to happen. I've alluded to this before but my husband and I are both oldest children/first borns and we both pride ourselves on having a whole lot of control over everything.
And now I know that it all happened for a reason. We are being taught life lessons, we are being edified, we are being changed. We are a better team now then we were, we are better at reading each other and when the other ones needs a break/date night/sleep/conversation. We are better now. One of the reasons, I believe, is because it made us stronger as a couple.
I know I'm also personally being taught patience on a daily basis. Today I took the twins to a coffee shop in the morning while we had some extra time. And so i decided to walk them in, one holding on to each hand as we crossed the parking lot, went up the sidewalk, through double doors, and then into the store to go find the highchairs.
*Inhale, Exhale*
I met about 4 different strangers along the way who stopped to say Hi to the kids, ask their ages, etc because that's how long it took to get in the store. I desperately just wanted to grab each one and lift them up and run to the highchairs, but I really do have to stop and check myself every once in awhile. And tell myself, its ok. We aren't in a hurry and either are they and they have to have opportunities to walk and see and do different things too. And so we walked. And walked. And walked. Adam is a bit faster than Gabriel, and by a bit, i mean he is lightning speed taking off in front of me holding onto my one finger as his arm is bent back over his head, and Gabriel is behind me trying to keep up and not doing too bad. Then, oh wait, we stop and look at a leaf blowing by, and that's a bit terrifying apparently, but the other one doesn't see it so he keeps on going, now someone fell because he didn't see us stop and now were crying. Lots of crying. Now were big open mouth teeth everywhere wailing on the ground. Ok, now were up again, ok good, phew, now were walking nicely. Wait, someone just noticed the lines on the floor. Let's look at those for a second. Inspect. Inspect more. Touch the lines. They are satisfactory. Now we're going again. Ok, i think were going to actually get to the chairs, but wait, who is that elderly lady over there, she sure looks pleasant, no wait, she's terrifying! WHY IS HER HAIR WHITE! AHHHHH. Now let's hide behind mom's legs, and cling like we have never clung before. Phew, it's safe here.
Is anyone else with me??
We finally did get to the highchairs, had a snack and some chocolate milk. And they are very cute and fun to hang out with, but do I ever have to take some deep breaths sometimes and just remind myself that they are small, and yes there are two of them, but sometimes I need to pretend that they are only children. Each one wants to be talked to, each one wants to be shown things, held, walked around with unlimited amount of time and patience. And this is what i struggle with, is giving each one the time and attention and one on one that would be ideal to give them, but isn't always realistic.
99% of the time when I'm interacting with one of the children, I'm thinking of the other ones, and thinking about how I'm neglecting them, or i'll have to make sure I read the same picture book to him, or I'll have to make sure I pick him up and hold him later. Or show him the baby birds outside. But every once in awhile I'm able to just remind myself to just be with that kid that you happen to be holding right there and then, for whatever the reason might be, just pretend like he's the only one for a second, pretend that you don't have that guilt eating away at you because that's not always fair. It's something I'm working on, albeit not always successfully.
As I was walking OUT of the store, I tried doing the same thing, walking the boys out, one on each hand and we got to about the sidewalk outside of the store and two men having a smoke said I must have the patience of Job. And I thought oh cool, they know that story in the bible. And then about two seconds after that they saw me sling both kids up, one on each hip, and give up on the whole patience thing, and i thought wow that wasn't a very good example of patience, and then i just had to laugh because we really are only human, us parents/grandparents/aunts/humanbeings. We can try and try, and we should, but there are limits. And the limits are apparently walking two very cute, but very slow-poke twins.
Have a good day everyone. Enjoy the heat.
Ya see, we were told it had to be us because we were the types that like to have everything under control. Everything was planned out. Everything was on our time, on our watch, when we allowed it to happen. I've alluded to this before but my husband and I are both oldest children/first borns and we both pride ourselves on having a whole lot of control over everything.
And now I know that it all happened for a reason. We are being taught life lessons, we are being edified, we are being changed. We are a better team now then we were, we are better at reading each other and when the other ones needs a break/date night/sleep/conversation. We are better now. One of the reasons, I believe, is because it made us stronger as a couple.
I know I'm also personally being taught patience on a daily basis. Today I took the twins to a coffee shop in the morning while we had some extra time. And so i decided to walk them in, one holding on to each hand as we crossed the parking lot, went up the sidewalk, through double doors, and then into the store to go find the highchairs.
*Inhale, Exhale*
I met about 4 different strangers along the way who stopped to say Hi to the kids, ask their ages, etc because that's how long it took to get in the store. I desperately just wanted to grab each one and lift them up and run to the highchairs, but I really do have to stop and check myself every once in awhile. And tell myself, its ok. We aren't in a hurry and either are they and they have to have opportunities to walk and see and do different things too. And so we walked. And walked. And walked. Adam is a bit faster than Gabriel, and by a bit, i mean he is lightning speed taking off in front of me holding onto my one finger as his arm is bent back over his head, and Gabriel is behind me trying to keep up and not doing too bad. Then, oh wait, we stop and look at a leaf blowing by, and that's a bit terrifying apparently, but the other one doesn't see it so he keeps on going, now someone fell because he didn't see us stop and now were crying. Lots of crying. Now were big open mouth teeth everywhere wailing on the ground. Ok, now were up again, ok good, phew, now were walking nicely. Wait, someone just noticed the lines on the floor. Let's look at those for a second. Inspect. Inspect more. Touch the lines. They are satisfactory. Now we're going again. Ok, i think were going to actually get to the chairs, but wait, who is that elderly lady over there, she sure looks pleasant, no wait, she's terrifying! WHY IS HER HAIR WHITE! AHHHHH. Now let's hide behind mom's legs, and cling like we have never clung before. Phew, it's safe here.
Is anyone else with me??
We finally did get to the highchairs, had a snack and some chocolate milk. And they are very cute and fun to hang out with, but do I ever have to take some deep breaths sometimes and just remind myself that they are small, and yes there are two of them, but sometimes I need to pretend that they are only children. Each one wants to be talked to, each one wants to be shown things, held, walked around with unlimited amount of time and patience. And this is what i struggle with, is giving each one the time and attention and one on one that would be ideal to give them, but isn't always realistic.
99% of the time when I'm interacting with one of the children, I'm thinking of the other ones, and thinking about how I'm neglecting them, or i'll have to make sure I read the same picture book to him, or I'll have to make sure I pick him up and hold him later. Or show him the baby birds outside. But every once in awhile I'm able to just remind myself to just be with that kid that you happen to be holding right there and then, for whatever the reason might be, just pretend like he's the only one for a second, pretend that you don't have that guilt eating away at you because that's not always fair. It's something I'm working on, albeit not always successfully.
As I was walking OUT of the store, I tried doing the same thing, walking the boys out, one on each hand and we got to about the sidewalk outside of the store and two men having a smoke said I must have the patience of Job. And I thought oh cool, they know that story in the bible. And then about two seconds after that they saw me sling both kids up, one on each hip, and give up on the whole patience thing, and i thought wow that wasn't a very good example of patience, and then i just had to laugh because we really are only human, us parents/grandparents/aunts/humanbeings. We can try and try, and we should, but there are limits. And the limits are apparently walking two very cute, but very slow-poke twins.
Have a good day everyone. Enjoy the heat.
Thursday, 16 May 2013
We are forever changed: Now what?
Two days ago I was about to hand a few dollars over to a homeless man that was standing in the intersection with a sign saying "Hungry", when I froze for a second. I totally froze. If I have change nearby in the coin slot, and I'm the driver, I'll almost always hand over a few dollars. Whether you agree or not isn't important, but someone made a good point to me a few years ago that regardless of what they are using the money for, you don't have to sleep where they might sleep tonight, you don't have to walk in their shoes in the next 24 hours, and you don't know how hard their day/week/life has been, and so I would encourage you to give that some thought. Why I froze right in my tracks is the bigger conversation and I will get to that in a bit.
If you live in Ontario, Canada , you know that the last week was one of the most horrid weeks of our adult lives. An innocent 32 year old family man that lived five minutes from our house was murdered when he went on a test drive and was never returned to his wife and young daughter. If you live in North America or the United States you know the story of the 3 missing Cleveland girls that were found last week after being held captive for ten years.
And I'm going to stop right there.
We all know the details of these stories and how horrific they both are. Most of the people I know, especially the ones that were connected to the first atrocity, didn't smile for 9 days and they still aren't smiling. There was nothing to smile about and there still isn't. There was nothing to laugh about either. Nobody could do anything and we felt unable to go about our daily lives, as if it was almost wrong to enjoy the life that we've been given. That's certainly the way I felt and so as you can see, I wrote nothing. It didn't seem fair to go on and resume normal life and blab on about nonsense when people's lives had been shattered before their very eyes and all because people are evil.
That's what happens when the world gets shaken up. Everything changes. Your sense of security changes, the way you look at life is different, how you view what you have is altered. And so things shift. I still remember the days of the Leslie Mahaffy and Kristen French murders in the early 90's although I was fairly young. I distinctly remember being a young girl who could roam around on my bike with my friends to the park and to the store, and then I suddenly remembered that I couldn't. Girls weren't safe anymore "out there". This is still true to this day. Everything shifted and people became more cautious. We shifted to keep our girls safe.
On the other hand, something else happens. I like to call this recalibration. When events like this happen, our lives become so simple, don't they? The to-do list doesn't matter, the sorting of clothes doesn't matter, even work tasks and recreational activities take the back burner. Everyone just stops. You become more focused. What's important? Your family/loved ones/friends and health and safety. That's it. Simple. It's like someone took the calendar on your fridge and just shook it out so that everything slides off in a heap on the floor (with the other heap of crumbs) because most of what's on there is trivial anyways. Most of it doesn't matter. Swimming lessons? Meh. Car maintenance? Not important. Call company about pee stains on carpet? That's debatable.
It's like for a minute we get to see life for the way we are truly supposed to see it, with focus and clarity, and without distraction. It becomes the closest to the way someone on their death bed would see your life, and also the way God wants you to see your life. It's like having tunnel vision, towards that things that you need most. You see the love all around you. You see who is important. And you also see the brevity of life. It's staring you right back in the face, saying "This life is short, Pal. Get your act together".
I don't claim to know anything about anything. But what I do know is that the week the man in our community went missing, I walked around nauseated for days. I know I texted a friend and told her I had heartburn down to my toes out of stress. I know I took Nyquil three nights in a row to get to sleep because I knew a wife the same age as me was laying in her house not knowing where her husband was. I know people who didn't know him that cried for days out of grief for him and his family. This is how we are all affected, even when we don't know those involved personally.
I also know that I have never in my entire life seen people come together like they did for this man. I know that the collaboration and community between churches of all around Canada fully squashed any differences between denominations that might have existed previously and had everyone working in unison. I know that I've never been more proud of our Hamilton Police force and proud that a friend is one of them, and I also know that you cannot EVER, under any circumstance, underestimate the City of Hamilton, it's people, and it's police. We may be perceived as an underdog, Yo, but we are going to hunt you down like you are a rabid animal.
I also know I've never been more proud to be part of a Christian community.
I also know I ALMOST didn't toss that man a few dollars because I was scared. I was scared that maybe he would take that opportunity to rob me, or hurt me. I wondered if he would try to get in my car when I rolled down my window. I know that's not rational but that's what I felt at the time. A loss of a sense of security.
I want to be careful about my personal safety, always. But I want to be kind and generous to strangers too. That's a delicate balance and I'm still working on the kinks in my own mind. As a woman, you certainly learn that one pretty fast, and it's something you teach your daughters: how to stay out of harms way, how to be cautious, how to be leery of people you cannot trust. But as a person, a person who wants to be kind, and a person who feels called to try to do better, how do we extend ourselves to others now? How do we help a perfect stranger? How do we move forward after this?
And all I can come up with is what my Pastor read off the pulpit on Sunday:
In Joshua 1:9 we read, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
I will try to keep this in mind more. I think we all need to.
If you live in Ontario, Canada , you know that the last week was one of the most horrid weeks of our adult lives. An innocent 32 year old family man that lived five minutes from our house was murdered when he went on a test drive and was never returned to his wife and young daughter. If you live in North America or the United States you know the story of the 3 missing Cleveland girls that were found last week after being held captive for ten years.
And I'm going to stop right there.
We all know the details of these stories and how horrific they both are. Most of the people I know, especially the ones that were connected to the first atrocity, didn't smile for 9 days and they still aren't smiling. There was nothing to smile about and there still isn't. There was nothing to laugh about either. Nobody could do anything and we felt unable to go about our daily lives, as if it was almost wrong to enjoy the life that we've been given. That's certainly the way I felt and so as you can see, I wrote nothing. It didn't seem fair to go on and resume normal life and blab on about nonsense when people's lives had been shattered before their very eyes and all because people are evil.
That's what happens when the world gets shaken up. Everything changes. Your sense of security changes, the way you look at life is different, how you view what you have is altered. And so things shift. I still remember the days of the Leslie Mahaffy and Kristen French murders in the early 90's although I was fairly young. I distinctly remember being a young girl who could roam around on my bike with my friends to the park and to the store, and then I suddenly remembered that I couldn't. Girls weren't safe anymore "out there". This is still true to this day. Everything shifted and people became more cautious. We shifted to keep our girls safe.
On the other hand, something else happens. I like to call this recalibration. When events like this happen, our lives become so simple, don't they? The to-do list doesn't matter, the sorting of clothes doesn't matter, even work tasks and recreational activities take the back burner. Everyone just stops. You become more focused. What's important? Your family/loved ones/friends and health and safety. That's it. Simple. It's like someone took the calendar on your fridge and just shook it out so that everything slides off in a heap on the floor (with the other heap of crumbs) because most of what's on there is trivial anyways. Most of it doesn't matter. Swimming lessons? Meh. Car maintenance? Not important. Call company about pee stains on carpet? That's debatable.
It's like for a minute we get to see life for the way we are truly supposed to see it, with focus and clarity, and without distraction. It becomes the closest to the way someone on their death bed would see your life, and also the way God wants you to see your life. It's like having tunnel vision, towards that things that you need most. You see the love all around you. You see who is important. And you also see the brevity of life. It's staring you right back in the face, saying "This life is short, Pal. Get your act together".
I don't claim to know anything about anything. But what I do know is that the week the man in our community went missing, I walked around nauseated for days. I know I texted a friend and told her I had heartburn down to my toes out of stress. I know I took Nyquil three nights in a row to get to sleep because I knew a wife the same age as me was laying in her house not knowing where her husband was. I know people who didn't know him that cried for days out of grief for him and his family. This is how we are all affected, even when we don't know those involved personally.
I also know that I have never in my entire life seen people come together like they did for this man. I know that the collaboration and community between churches of all around Canada fully squashed any differences between denominations that might have existed previously and had everyone working in unison. I know that I've never been more proud of our Hamilton Police force and proud that a friend is one of them, and I also know that you cannot EVER, under any circumstance, underestimate the City of Hamilton, it's people, and it's police. We may be perceived as an underdog, Yo, but we are going to hunt you down like you are a rabid animal.
I also know I've never been more proud to be part of a Christian community.
I also know I ALMOST didn't toss that man a few dollars because I was scared. I was scared that maybe he would take that opportunity to rob me, or hurt me. I wondered if he would try to get in my car when I rolled down my window. I know that's not rational but that's what I felt at the time. A loss of a sense of security.
I want to be careful about my personal safety, always. But I want to be kind and generous to strangers too. That's a delicate balance and I'm still working on the kinks in my own mind. As a woman, you certainly learn that one pretty fast, and it's something you teach your daughters: how to stay out of harms way, how to be cautious, how to be leery of people you cannot trust. But as a person, a person who wants to be kind, and a person who feels called to try to do better, how do we extend ourselves to others now? How do we help a perfect stranger? How do we move forward after this?
And all I can come up with is what my Pastor read off the pulpit on Sunday:
In Joshua 1:9 we read, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
I will try to keep this in mind more. I think we all need to.
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