Yesterday my husband Pete picked her up from school and took her with him to the Tim Horton’s drive-thru. He got himself a coffee and treated her to an apple juice.

After he gave her the juice, he saw her ‘smoking’ with her straw through the rear view mirror. He asked her what she was doing and she replied “I’m smoking daddy.” To which he so eloquently said, “You shouldn’t pretend to smoke ‘cause smoking is stupid.” Then she said, “Daddy, is auntie Ana stupid because she smokes?” Pete replied, “No she’s not stupid but she knows smoking is not good.

And here it comes…Tali says to Pete: “Daddy do you smoke?” Pete replied “No I don’t” and Tali blurts, “Then how come I hear mommy calling you stupid all the time?”

In my defence, I don’t call my husband stupid all the time. The moral of the story is: watch what you say in front of your kids (even if it’s muttered under your breath sometimes) – oh and also, smoking is bad.

Let me explain my beef with ballet class. My 4-year-old daughter Tali is enrolled at a local rec. centre ballet class. It’s a half hour class, every Wednesday evening. I leave Charlotte (my 7-month-old) at home with my husband and I take Tali to class. I take the newspaper or a magazine and a Fresca on ice with me and as soon as that classroom door closes, I breathe a big ‘ahhhh’ and sit down on the bench for half an hour to enjoy my drink and quiet reading time or chatting with my friend whose kids are also in the class.

Ten or 15 mins. into the class, the instructor comes out of the studio looking for a child’s mom because, guess what, she has to ‘go pee’. And her mom has decided that since she’s busy with ballet, she can leave and go who-knows-where? (Maybe I’m a helicopter mom here but these kids are 4-6 years of age so they may not be old enough to make it through a class without a disruption of a requested drink or bathroom break – or maybe they just miss you or are tired – who knows). So the teacher asks if I can take the child to the bathroom. I did it once and my friend did it another week for another child. But that’s when I put my foot down and told the teacher she should talk to the parents and advise them to not leave the premises while their child is in class – or to be sure they take their child to the bathroom right before class.

My friend thinks it’s inappropriate because she doesn’t want to get in trouble by taking a stranger’s child to the bathroom in case any sort of incident occurs. But I’m more annoyed with a parent who thinks they can just leave their child to enjoy their free time or run errands, etc. For me, that half hour waiting outside the dance studio is MY free time.

So I’m sorry, I will not take your child to the bathroom again. Besides, what if that child has an accident and soils herself or asks me to wipe her or is sick and vomits? Call me a Bee with an itch, but I just don’t want to be responsible. I don’t mind helping children of course, but feel too many parents just take these things for granted. I’ll bet that kid didn’t even tell her parents of the bathroom incident and they don’t even know I took their child to the bathroom. Thankfully, I’m not a pervert or a crazy person who would harm a child – but how can those parents or dance instructor be sure of that?

I’m still at home on mat. leave with Charlotte. I can’t believe she’s already six months old! I’ve been trying to keep busy this winter and have just been exhausted really. My days have mainly consisted of dropping and picking up Tali (my 4-year-old) at school, going to the gym, grocery shopping and other such errands (all this while lugging Charlotte around of course), then home to start dinner and get them ready for bed and to do it all again the next day (plus waking up in the night one or two times still).

Add to that a bunch of dirt, drilling, jack-hammering, dust, etc. Oh yes, my husband is finally renovating the basement that flooded the summer before last. He’s doing it by himself, after work and on weekends – meaning: it has been drrrrrrragging on. And on top of that, Charlee is a bit of a constipated baby and she has been miserable off and on when she’s not had a good BM. Poor thing. I’ve started her on solids and lately she’s refusing prunes and fruits and even water and juice. I think she may be starting to teeth too so it’s just a fun combination all around.

But finally, spring is here and like the flowers and plants out there, I am determined to push through all the dirt and crap (or lack thereof) and soak up all the sunshine and just enjoy life. Spring and summer is soooo much easier to enjoy your kids. No snow suits, boots, hats, etc. to wrestle with. And this time around with baby #2, if I feel like taking her out in just a diaper shirt – why not? (Just don’t tell my mother-in-law or my Portuguese aunts who will try to convince me that she’ll catch a deadly cold if she’s not wearing shoes or socks). Why do babies need shoes if they don’t walk anyway? Maybe they should be wearing knee pads and shin guards for crawling protection – or for the nervous moms – maybe body armour and a helmet for all the rolling around they do! Thankfully you tend to be much more relaxed with baby #2. So bring on the spring weather – parks, long walks and rolling around in the grass – here we come! I can’t wait!

I was sitting on the couch in pjs, no bra, slouched back with the laptop on my lap catching up on some blog posts and checking emails, etc. He saw I had the camera out because I was uploading some pictures on to the computer so he lovingly took a picture of me and asked “What is this part called?” (referring to my lower abdomen). If you knew our relationship, you would laugh as hard as I did. Plus it’s only been a few months since I had baby Charlotte so I haven’t even thought about the battle of my baby bulge yet. But I thought I’d share the laugh. Think of it as my “Before” picture and hopefully a year from now, I’ll have a few less rolls for him to take pictures of. And, if not, I’ll just be sure to take a picture of his ‘gut’ and ask him how many babies he’s carried and delivered!!!

Anyhow, I joined to get back in shape (funny ’cause I wasn’t in much ‘shape’ before I was pregnant anyway) but also mainly to get one or two hours a day to myself. This is because they provide daycare for children 3 months and up (NOTE: there is another major gym chain that starts at 6 weeks old). My Charlee-cakes turned three months on Jan. 2nd so along with half the city making good on their New Year’s resolutions, I joined the gym.

I just wanted to let you other new moms out there know that it is the best investment I have made. I have gone nearly every day and it has really helped me to build a routine for myself and get some of those good endorphins pumping. No matter how little sleep I’ve had, I drag myself in there because it truly does give me more energy and helps me get to sleep better (staying asleep is a different story as it depends on how long Little Miss Sunshine wants to sleep that night).

I recommend it for everyone. The daycare employees are ECE trained (though I haven’t asked for any documentation, I must admit). But I’ll take my chances for 1 or 2 hours. I usually go after she’s been fed and changed so she’s young enough that she mostly just stays sleeping in the stroller while I’m doing a class or jogging/walking on the treadmill. Also, their machines have TVs and a specific channel where you can see the daycare room and monitor what’s going on.

Yesterday was my best day yet. I got to the gym, put Charlotte in the daycare and went to sit in their lounge where I read the paper, drank my coffee and then I painted my nails all before going to do the Body Sculpt class. After the class, I realxed in the steam room and then had a nice long shower in their private shower/bathroom without any interruptions of crying or keeping an ear out for the baby. Really, it was like a day at the spa – almost but not quite. So all you moms sitting at home while your husbands, partners and friends are busy at work, go make friends with Mr. Gym, I guarantee it’ll do you and everyone around you a world of good.

My thermometer wasn’t working so I had no idea how bad (but she was saying things like “Mom, the house is moving!” and “Mom, how come you have two heads?”). And as luck would have it, I’m out of Children’s Tylenol or Motrin or any other over-the-counter relief. Thankfully I remembered that I had a sample Children’s Tylenol liquid from our last visit to doctor’s office. It only indicates dosages up to 3 years of age. She’s 4 so I give her the maximum dose and a few drops more and hope it will at least help. It did get her to sleep for a few hours (which means I got to sleep a few hours too). Lukily baby Charlotte slept through the night – wooohooo (knock on wood that she keeps it up).

Thankfully my friend who lives up the street was home and got my call and went to the pharmacy to buy me some chewables (thank you Marisa!). I had other offers (thanks guys) but for a few minutes it was rough. I was home alone, no Pete and I couldn’t leave the kids at home to go out for pills, nor could I take them with me in this crazy cold.

My hat’s off to all you single moms and moms with more than one kid or have husbands who work a lot or odd shifts or whatever. I don’t know how you do it? I thought I was a trooper and tough, but when it comes to kids, I must be a diva. I need Pete’s help and I’m not ashamed to admit it and thankfully when he is here, he’s an awesome dad and really does a lot. So hurry up and come home Petey please! I need a ‘working out of town’ vacation. I know he’s working, but that’s only 8 hours, the rest of the time is his to relax and do what he likes. Sometimes I wish I was out there working my butt off for 8 hours, just to get the free down-time and get some uninterrupted sleep. Ahh one day….

This time with baby #2 though, it’s been quite different. Where do people find the time??? I’m always tired. Plus, when Tali goes to bed, Charlotte’s still awake. When Charlotte falls asleep she could sleep for 3 hours or she could wake up suddenly after just a few minutes. It’s tricky and involves more effort than before kids.

Now it’s the battle of:

1. Does Pete get a vasectomy?
2. Do I get an IUD?

I don’t want to go on the pill (don’t like the idea of forgetting to take a pill or messing with hormones and all the possible side-effects especially now that I’m no longer a spring chicken ; ) and I refuse to have invasive surgery to ‘tie my tubes’. And then I think “my body has gone through enough!”. I’ve had two children pushed out of my nether region (and one was over 9 lbs!), I’ve had tearing, cutting, stitching, two huge needles in my spine, swelling, bleeding, etc. and men are just too precious to have a tiny incision in a quick procedure that involves one day of recovery and a bag of frozen peas? I mean COME ON GUYS!

So Pete, my husband, says he’ll do it, but just WHEN is the question. His excuses have been:
- “I hear it raises a mans’ sex drive and I’m worried you won’t be able to keep up”. To which I say “Well if I’m not always worried about getting pregnant, my sex drive will go up too believe you me!”
- “It’s too painful, you don’t understand the pain and suffering I’d go through” – this one makes me want to implant a watermelon in his abdomen, let him carry it around for a few months among other things!
- and his latest excuse is that he “doesn’t believe it will work”. HA, HA, HA.

I’ve thought of withholding sex, but then I’m punishing myself too (it is a good stress reliever after all – and pretty much the only exercise I’m getting these days – it’s just too cold to walk and it’s too early for me to join the gym!). Are there any of you who’ve convinced your partners to do it or am I the only one married to a man with no balls (pun intended).

I’ve never had long nails (they are prone to peeling) and now with the pregnancy hormones, they got nice and long and so strong.

But after scratching Tali while getting her dressed and scratching baby Charlotte in the face (it was small but she cried – I know, mother of year – jeez talk about vanity) I went to the cupboard, got out the nail clippers and cut them all off.

It was a sad day for me ’cause the long nails were fun and made me feel more feminine, but let’s face it, if you want long nails, you need to know how to shape them and make them look good – which I’m not very good at. Now back to reality and short nails (on the bright side, they look waaaay better when you paint them with a darker colour – I know, you’re wondering where I find the time but priorities are priorities – ha, ha). And come to think of it, after looking at the ‘After’ photo, I think I need to cut them even shorter….and probably should as I already feel all the extra hormones leaving the body (just this morning, I had some hair shedding in the shower – sigh – goodbye to 9 months of thicker, shinier hair). Hmmm maybe it’s time to get pregnant again – no way – I’d rather have no nails and be completely bald – ha, ha, ha….


Before



After

So for the past month, my days and nights have consisted of mainly chaos. Trying to master breastfeeding (I’ll save that story for another entry), washing baby clothes, the never-ending challenge of waiting for a good burp, rocking, holding, swaddling (this time around I bought one of those swaddle blankets that have velcro and I love it! It really works and she’s been sleeping better/longer since we’ve started using it) and all the good stuff that comes along with being a new mom.

On top of the usual newborn stuff, I also have my four-year-old daughter Tali to take care of and amuse while my husband is at work. This year she started Junior Kindergarten. This is also the first year they’ve introduced full-day kindergarten classes in some schools and thankfully, I got her in one of the schools in our neighbourhood that’s offering the full day.

She was already in full-time daycare so I figured it was better for her to have a full day of learning and playing and interacting with kids, than to be stuck in the house with me and baby Charlee and having her needs put to the backburner ’cause I was busy with the baby. She’d end up watching a whole lotta TV I’m sure, so full day JK it was and by the way – she loves it! She’s already learned so much and I can notice a huge difference in her.

So basically the only consistent routine I have in my life right now is dropping Tali at school at 9 a.m. and picking her up at 3:03 p.m. (I have no idea why they need those extra 3 minutes!?!). I thought it would be a hassle and it is inconvenient to load up Charlee in the car seat (sometimes disturbing her sleep – and mine!). But it also gives me some sort of structure to my day (I’m a Virgo and like – no NEED routine and structure!).

Last week, I woke up late, got Tali ready, made her a breakfast-to-go and ran out the door without even washing my face or brushing my teeth (gross, I know, but I’m sure some of you have had to do it one time or another too, admit it). My hair was a mess so I just put a hat on, but what I didn’t notice was that the night before I had put a spot of that ProActive mask on the tip of my nose where I noticed a mountainous pimple forming. I dropped her off with the cream still on my nose – how embarrassing. After that I had to run to a doctor’s appointment with Charlotte. The appointment went well and just as I was leaving the doctor came out of her door and said, “Um Teresa, you forgot this” and hands me my nursing pad that somehow fell out of my bra! What a stupid day. Thankfully, she’s a mom too and she was very nice with a reassuring “Oh don’t worry about it, I’ve seen much worse in my day”.

A silly day all in all but to be honest, in my sleep-deprived haze, it really didn’t bother me as much as it would have before I had kids. Having babies, really does take away your humility and makes you much less self-conscious. Hey after all kinds of doctors and nurses looking and poking and prodding at my hoo-ha and helping me squeeze my boobs to get the latch right, etc., what’s a dab of zit cream and a nursing pad mishap really?

I just burst out laughing with images of a super-hero that went around shooting milk from her breasts. Just call me Super-Milk-Mom!
I love kids and their innocent way of thinking.