I have no idea how it never occurred to me that hubby going back to work full time would increase my personal responsibilities. Duh! What the hell was I thinking?! Where was my brain?!
He started back to work full time (though working from home some days) this week. It was all good - the best laid plans. There were no issues, a babysitter for the off-kindergarten days was easy to find and affordable. The work schedules jived and no one had to change anything. We planned this for a month. A full month I had to figure this out. Never ONCE did it cross my mind that I would have to work full time AND be solely responsible for the kids until after dinner 5 days a week. Not until yesterday. Day one went off without a hitch. Day two came and BOOM! It hit me. It is going to be like this FIVE DAYS A WEEK. PLUS working full time myself. Suddenly I feel oh, so tired.
Sometimes I wonder where my brain is. It was my idea that he work full time. I'll get used to it, I'm sure, but it seems like an uphill climb right now. I need to wake up and smell the responsibility - QUICK!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
**Surprise Moment
For a couple of months now I have known that my son was ready to try a two-wheeler. The problem was that he had no desire to do it, and he's a very head-strong kid. If he doesn't want it, he will fight it with all his might. So today I put my foot down, and through the tears and arguing emerged a proud little boy pedalling his way down the sidewalk with no training wheels. He is so proud of himself, and I would not have insisted had I not been sure he could do it confidently. He can.
Here's the short version of the story. A wonderfully brilliant friend suggested converting a bike into a "push bike" - removing the pedals and training wheels and ensuring the seat is nice and low and having him learn how to "glide" down the driveway. He did this off and on for a month or two (not consistently - maybe once a week). Once the gliding became easy (he can start at the top of the driveway and glide easily down onto the sidewalk without putting his feet down), we were to put the pedals on.
So here we are - after school today. Hubby screwing the pedals in and poor son sobbing that he likes his push bike and wants to ride it forever. I beg, I plead, I bargain - just TRY it. I promise a "prize" if he gives it his best shot. I try everything. Then I have a thought. Since he was a baby he would not try anything unless he knew he had mastered it. Even walking - he pushed that toy on wheels around our condo for months before he let go. So today I said "why don't Daddy, your sister and I cover our eyes and you try it and tell us when you're ready to let us watch". For half an hour I peeked through my fingers as he first put his feet on the pedals, then began MOVING the pedals, to next him being at the end of the street beaming back at us saying "open your eyes! Look how far I went?!" He did it all by himself. There was no running alongside him, not one scratch or fall, he just did it.
The part that I was not prepared for was the overwhelming feeling of pride I had when he pedaled for the first time. I, of course, could not express it because I wasn't supposed to be watching, but it caught me off guard. I expected him to get the hang of it, and I pictured him doing it, but the rush of emotion as he took off on his own was indescribable. Who would have thought that on a cloudy September day, an event as simple as that would burn into my memory and surely last a lifetime.
Here's the short version of the story. A wonderfully brilliant friend suggested converting a bike into a "push bike" - removing the pedals and training wheels and ensuring the seat is nice and low and having him learn how to "glide" down the driveway. He did this off and on for a month or two (not consistently - maybe once a week). Once the gliding became easy (he can start at the top of the driveway and glide easily down onto the sidewalk without putting his feet down), we were to put the pedals on.
So here we are - after school today. Hubby screwing the pedals in and poor son sobbing that he likes his push bike and wants to ride it forever. I beg, I plead, I bargain - just TRY it. I promise a "prize" if he gives it his best shot. I try everything. Then I have a thought. Since he was a baby he would not try anything unless he knew he had mastered it. Even walking - he pushed that toy on wheels around our condo for months before he let go. So today I said "why don't Daddy, your sister and I cover our eyes and you try it and tell us when you're ready to let us watch". For half an hour I peeked through my fingers as he first put his feet on the pedals, then began MOVING the pedals, to next him being at the end of the street beaming back at us saying "open your eyes! Look how far I went?!" He did it all by himself. There was no running alongside him, not one scratch or fall, he just did it.
The part that I was not prepared for was the overwhelming feeling of pride I had when he pedaled for the first time. I, of course, could not express it because I wasn't supposed to be watching, but it caught me off guard. I expected him to get the hang of it, and I pictured him doing it, but the rush of emotion as he took off on his own was indescribable. Who would have thought that on a cloudy September day, an event as simple as that would burn into my memory and surely last a lifetime.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
**Parenting Challenging Day
So we're upstairs in the bathroom changing our fish's water when my son climbs in the bathtub and starts pretending to have a bath. As I finish scrubbing that yummy algae off the walls of the two fish bowls, I tell the kids that I don't mind if they play pretend in the tub, just no turning on the water and take off the socks to avoid slips. They're gleeful that Mom is so cool.
Fast-forward ten minutes. I'm downstairs putting chicken in the oven. I hear that the innocent child's play is becoming more and more rowdy. I poke the potatoes and head upstairs to threaten the games to be over if they're too wild. What do I find but a huge chunk missing out of the shower curtain. My mind was racing...I'm angry because I know they were playing too rough...they KNOW they were playing too rough...I don't know who did it...but they were both being wild...what can I do?...Ending the game isn't enough...there has to be something else. So I have a bright idea. Both kids to their rooms, a discussion about respecting their environment and (drum roll please) each kid has to give me $1 out of their piggy bank to pay for a new shower curtain.
Am I a bad Mom? I sure felt like it as my little girl sat on her bed hugging her piggy bank and crying. But I needed to make a point. Mommy always bails them out - if they break something it gets replaced-even if it was broken due to disrespecting it. A time out isn't enough in this situation. So they each gave me a dollar and verbalized understanding of the importance of caring for our family's stuff.
Point made? I sure hope so because that was a tough one for me to do.
Fast-forward ten minutes. I'm downstairs putting chicken in the oven. I hear that the innocent child's play is becoming more and more rowdy. I poke the potatoes and head upstairs to threaten the games to be over if they're too wild. What do I find but a huge chunk missing out of the shower curtain. My mind was racing...I'm angry because I know they were playing too rough...they KNOW they were playing too rough...I don't know who did it...but they were both being wild...what can I do?...Ending the game isn't enough...there has to be something else. So I have a bright idea. Both kids to their rooms, a discussion about respecting their environment and (drum roll please) each kid has to give me $1 out of their piggy bank to pay for a new shower curtain.
Am I a bad Mom? I sure felt like it as my little girl sat on her bed hugging her piggy bank and crying. But I needed to make a point. Mommy always bails them out - if they break something it gets replaced-even if it was broken due to disrespecting it. A time out isn't enough in this situation. So they each gave me a dollar and verbalized understanding of the importance of caring for our family's stuff.
Point made? I sure hope so because that was a tough one for me to do.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
**Epilogue
A quick epilogue to my blog from earlier tonight. My son is still awake in bed at 10:05pm - two hours and ten minutes after he was tucked in there. Perhaps there is a downside to all the excitement that grade one has brought him.......
**Sigh Of Relief
My boy started grade one today. He is officially a big kid - according to him. He plays outside on the tarmac with the big kids, goes in and out the same doors as the big kids, and gets to use the big kid bathrooms. Does it get better than that? Apparently not.
A lot of the grade one kids (and many of the grade twos) looked very hesitant this morning. There were a few tears shed and a lot of leg-clinging going on, but my boy was at the top of his game! He at one point looked a bit sad and I attentively said "what's wrong?!" (all concerned there were tears to follow) and all I got back was a "It's hot out here - I wanna go in!". Okay, clearly Mommy is more emotional than him.
Waiting at the back door to pick up my little man I was concerned about what I would find - would it be a smiley, happy kid, would it be a disappointed kid who thought grade one would be better than it actually is? I was worried, but at 3pm out through the door - the first kid in the whole school to come out - was my smiling bouncy boy. Grinning from ear to ear, he gave me a wave, said bye to his teacher and (sniff, sniff) avoided my kiss. He IS a big boy if he's avoiding my kiss.
But other than my little broken heart, the great news is that he had a great day, made new friends, and told me that "grade one is even better than he thought it would be", and that he "loves being in grade one". Phew. Thank goodness! I thought he would do well - he did love it last year, though he would NEVER admit it, and I figured he'd thrive on going full time, but still, I feel as if a crisis was averted. It could have gone either way, but we can all breathe again. I know you were all waiting with baited breath, but I assure you, he's doing just fine. My big kid.
A lot of the grade one kids (and many of the grade twos) looked very hesitant this morning. There were a few tears shed and a lot of leg-clinging going on, but my boy was at the top of his game! He at one point looked a bit sad and I attentively said "what's wrong?!" (all concerned there were tears to follow) and all I got back was a "It's hot out here - I wanna go in!". Okay, clearly Mommy is more emotional than him.
Waiting at the back door to pick up my little man I was concerned about what I would find - would it be a smiley, happy kid, would it be a disappointed kid who thought grade one would be better than it actually is? I was worried, but at 3pm out through the door - the first kid in the whole school to come out - was my smiling bouncy boy. Grinning from ear to ear, he gave me a wave, said bye to his teacher and (sniff, sniff) avoided my kiss. He IS a big boy if he's avoiding my kiss.
But other than my little broken heart, the great news is that he had a great day, made new friends, and told me that "grade one is even better than he thought it would be", and that he "loves being in grade one". Phew. Thank goodness! I thought he would do well - he did love it last year, though he would NEVER admit it, and I figured he'd thrive on going full time, but still, I feel as if a crisis was averted. It could have gone either way, but we can all breathe again. I know you were all waiting with baited breath, but I assure you, he's doing just fine. My big kid.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
**Jitters
I can't sit still. I literally can NOT sit without moving. I am so excited. My family comes home today from their trip out west. They have been gone for thirteen days. That's a long time. While I enjoy my time to myself and making my own schedule and rules, I also love when they come home. I can't wait to kiss and hug them...smell them! Isn't it funny that I miss their smells? How strange is that? If I were to list things that I miss about them, their smells would be right up there with their voices and their squeezes.
I kept myself busy the last thirteen days. Clearly I haven't been blogging, but I have gone out with a lot of friends, had some nights in with friends for games and karaoke, I've done things I haven't done in years like go to a Blue Jays game. I napped a lot, and in turn I learned something about myself. I don't sleep as well at night if my nap exceeds an hour. Who knew? I still sleep, but in a much lighter, less satisfying sleep. Don't fret, this fact will in no way impede my love of napping. Nope, I can live with sleeping lighter at night. Daytime naps are totally worth it.
So now I as I vibrate in my kitchen chair, waiting for the clock to hurry up, I realize I need to find something to do for the next hour. I'm gonna go find something to clean. That always passes the time. Yay! My family is coming home!!!!! My world is falling back into place once again.
I kept myself busy the last thirteen days. Clearly I haven't been blogging, but I have gone out with a lot of friends, had some nights in with friends for games and karaoke, I've done things I haven't done in years like go to a Blue Jays game. I napped a lot, and in turn I learned something about myself. I don't sleep as well at night if my nap exceeds an hour. Who knew? I still sleep, but in a much lighter, less satisfying sleep. Don't fret, this fact will in no way impede my love of napping. Nope, I can live with sleeping lighter at night. Daytime naps are totally worth it.
So now I as I vibrate in my kitchen chair, waiting for the clock to hurry up, I realize I need to find something to do for the next hour. I'm gonna go find something to clean. That always passes the time. Yay! My family is coming home!!!!! My world is falling back into place once again.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
**Busy Is The Key
I don't do well with too much time on my hands. All year long I whine that I don't have enough time to myself and fantasize about having time to do simple things like read a book or put pictures in a photo album. My family has just been away for their yearly trip, and I have come to a realization. If I could have time to myself in very small quantities, I'd be happiest.
My time spent with the family away was a true testament to the saying "the grass is always greener on the other side". For the first week I did something every single day. I went out for dinners, played bingo, went to a casino, went to a Blue Jays game, hosted a games night, hosted a karaoke night - all of which were wonderful, fun times that I normally don't get to do...or at least not all in one week! During the first week, I looked forward to my slower-paced second week. I imagined all I'd get done around the house, all the relaxation time I'd have, all the tv shows and movies I'd watch. After day one of no plans after work, I was totally done. I watched 3 1/2 hours of television (which of course I had to catch up on), felt like a couch potato, then I tried to be productive and change pictures in our kitchen frames and clean out the linen closet. I realized I didn't really feel like doing chores after that, so I went to bed early.
My life is hectic and stressful on a regular basis and I think my body goes into a state of shock when it doesn't need to keep up with that pace. I realize now that busy is my niche. Stick with what you're good at, right? I'm good at being busy. I'm going to go with that from now on. Slow and relaxing is fun for an hour or two, but overall is definitely not for me!
My time spent with the family away was a true testament to the saying "the grass is always greener on the other side". For the first week I did something every single day. I went out for dinners, played bingo, went to a casino, went to a Blue Jays game, hosted a games night, hosted a karaoke night - all of which were wonderful, fun times that I normally don't get to do...or at least not all in one week! During the first week, I looked forward to my slower-paced second week. I imagined all I'd get done around the house, all the relaxation time I'd have, all the tv shows and movies I'd watch. After day one of no plans after work, I was totally done. I watched 3 1/2 hours of television (which of course I had to catch up on), felt like a couch potato, then I tried to be productive and change pictures in our kitchen frames and clean out the linen closet. I realized I didn't really feel like doing chores after that, so I went to bed early.
My life is hectic and stressful on a regular basis and I think my body goes into a state of shock when it doesn't need to keep up with that pace. I realize now that busy is my niche. Stick with what you're good at, right? I'm good at being busy. I'm going to go with that from now on. Slow and relaxing is fun for an hour or two, but overall is definitely not for me!
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