Comebacks...not the smartass kind

I've been seeing it more and more lately.  "Celebrities" from the good old days (namely my early high school days) popping up in random television commercials.  Making a comeback via ridiculous spots promoting law agencies, website registration companies...really people?  You ain't no Betty White and you ain't never gonna be!  She's had more comebacks (if you can ever really say that she was gone) than I have freckles!  (I'm Irish Canadian and my parents rarely slipped, slapped or slopped when I was a kid...I don't tan, my freckles unite.) 

Is that all they want to be known for?  Being one of America's most loved Dads (even though he is Canadian), or the martial arts phenom who can hover between 2 tables in the split position while eating a bowl of cereal?  If that's what makes them feel alive, well then who am I to judge really right? 

I guess my point is that, save for very few of us, nobody knew who they were going to turn out to be 20 years ago.  I thought I was going to be married by 25, have 2 kids, have a clean house and money in the bank.  None of that is true now (well I DO have 2 kids...plus one) and does it really matter?  Who cares if my life didn't go according to "plan"?  The best plan I ever made was to throw that one out the window.  I have an amazing family (who I'll admit some days I want to throw out the window...not literally people, but down your cell phones), a lovely home filled with chipped Ikea furniture and have no clue what I do for a living anymore. 

I have always said that regrets are stupid in the sense that every decision I have made in life has led me to where I am now, good or bad.  Let go of who you were then and embrace who you are now, whether it's Mike Seaver's dad or the mom at the bus stop who wears the same jeans every day, never quite has her make up on yet and eats breakfast as her home daycare kids are walking up the drive.

I don't want to make a come back.  The girl I was in high school can stay there, she didn't really have all that much fun anyway.  I always had friends but never felt like I fit in.  I went to parties but hated sitting there watching everyone else just let loose and have a good time while I sat there wondering when it was time to head home.  So ya, she can stay there, but I'll take with me the amazing people I knew there and still know today.  None of us are where we thought we would be really, but we've grown into some pretty incredible people (I won't say grown ups because I'm not sure we are yet). 

In the words of another (and WAY hotter) LL, "Don't call it a comeback, I've been here for years..."  I think it's just taken me a little time to see it. 

That Was A Close One

Ok, so Mommy got herself a little present for once and picked up the new iPhone 5 just before Christmas.  I'm loving it.

Still exploring some of the many things I can do with it, but don't regret it a bit.  Now, I finally "turned on" Siri the other day at home and showed my 6 year old daughter what you can do with it.  She was in awe and practically begged me to use it.

Sure, fine, no problem.  Just push the little microphone and ask it what ever question you'd like the answer to.

"Ok, can I try now?".  So, I hand over the phone and wait to see what her little mind is wondering...

"Where do babies come from?"  Holy BALLS WHAT??  Lord help me.  My husband and I quite literally froze, staring at the iPhone dreading what was going to come from Siri.

"Ok, here you go..."  Siri says..."From their mothers."  Praise Jesus, that's an answer I can handle.  Breathe Mama, you're all good.  "How do they get there?" Maddie adds.  This is where I made a superhero style lunge for the phone...Siri, don't make me hurt you..."Would you like me to look it up on the web?".  No thanks Siri, we're good.

Phew, that was close.  Yes, one day I will have to have the full on conversation with her, but not now, not when she's 6.  There are already far too many things that make my kids grow up too quickly, this is NOT going to be one of them, at least not yet.

She still thinks boys are silly (which they are) and that her boyfriend is our best friend's husband.  Can't blame her really, he's a musician and he's got an accent.

Just know Siri, I got my EYE ON YOU!

6, Five, 4, Three, Two, 1.

Some days I don't believe it.  I have a 6, a 4 and a 1 year old. 

How did that happen?  Well, o.k. I know HOW it happened and have had to semi-explain it to the six year old...which was a really awkward night time conversation that somehow involved talk of an apple, a tree, dirt and sunshine...don't ask.  And of COURSE it happened on a night when Daddy was working nights.  Yep, I get all the good ones.

But back to the point.  I am a mother of 3 young kids and some days still can't believe that these amazing, intelligent, hilarious, inquisitive, irritating and gorgeous creatures are something that I have anything to do with.  Well, alright the intelligent and gorgeous I believe, the rest they get from their Dad.

I am completely in love with my children and would squish them and cover them with kisses all day, in a very healthy, non psychiatrist visit inducing sort of of way.  Having to witness Mommy rock it out to Just Dance 4 on the Wii...well that may be their breaking point. 

There aren't many I know these days who are not already a parent (or thinking of becoming one), but to try to explain the feeling...it is like your heart is living outside of your body.  It doesn't belong to you anymore and it is somehow both more fragile and stronger than you ever thought it could be.

You feel their victories and their hardships more strongly than they do.  Maybe that's why there are so many crazed parents in the rinks or off stage...no wait, those are just some crazAY bitches.  Dance Moms anyone?  Good Lord I fear putting Maddie into a dance company because of them.  Mostly because I may end up going to prison should one get all up in mah bidness.  Watch yoself!

I want to protect Madison from the little punk who punches her in the arm in the school yard...repeatedly.  I want to teach her that she is amazing and although I would never teach her that hitting someone is an o.k. thing to go out and do, I have also told her that should someone, anyone, hit her or physically hurt her, after exhausting all other avenues (telling them off in a 6 year old sort of way), telling a teacher, removing herself from the situation...SLUG THAT SUCKER AND MAKE 'EM REMEMBER IT!  Damn right.  Sorry, but if I should one day get a call from the principal because Madison just decked a kid that has been tormenting her and her friends since the beginning of school, after repeatedly telling them to stop and the above mentioned solutions...Momma got your back baby girl!

Having said that, she has the kindest little heart and would never do it.  Just want her to understand that things like that are never o.k. and that I don't care WHO they are (Mommy or Daddy included), taking a hit, although fantastic on the soccer field, is not something she should ever have to put up with.  She needs to know that now, before she heads out into the real world, so hopefully she never has to learn how to truly take one...and cover it up.

Ya, I wasn't sure where this post was going when I started it to be quite honest, but there it is.  This one's for the girls I guess.  (Sorry Brayden and Ewan, Mommy will write another post later about teaching you to lean into it or roll them off your shoulder.)

It terrifies me to think about how different it is raising a girl.  You have to prepare them for so many more dangers out there.  Not just the obvious ones and stranger danger...you have to create a girl so confident, that nothing anyone can ever do will put a dent in her armour.  Including her so called friends.  We all went through it and I honestly have no idea how to protect Maddie from it, so suggestions are welcomed.  Girls are horrible to each other at certain ages and it leaves scars.  But, scars are testaments to battles fought and survived.  Some even come with some pretty fun stories.

But physical scars?  Put there at someone else's hand?  Lord help the man (or woman, I don't judge) who ever tries to do that to my girl.  I've seen it happen before.  I've stood on a doorstep praying that "he" didn't answer the door in fear of what I may do should I see his face.  Funny how violent this post is making me sound.  Anyone who truly knows me knows that my heart is made of mush (not white mush Andrea)...but when Mama Bull comes around, those horns are the least of your worries.

So ya, being a Mom to 3 amazing kids who are so incredibly different poses some challenges.  You want to treat them all equally, treat them all the same.  But how can you?  If they are so different, then your approach to how you raise them has to be too. 

And hey speaking of too...look what time it is.  Once again it is just after 2a.m. and I have to get up for work in a few hours.  (Slick segue...I AM in radio after all.)

So good night my loyal followers (all 6 of you).  Guess we'll figure this parenting thing out together. 

Word.

4

Looking back at 2012 through this blog and this is what I see. 4.  Four blog entries in the entire year of 2012.

Surely I must have had more than 4 thoughts in 12 months!?  Surely more than just that has happened in the life of a mother of 3 and wife of one.  And yes, I do realize that I am mixing the use of numerals and writing out the numbers here, but hey...that's how I roll.

So to catch you all up on the events of the last year in my life...I was home on maternity leave, spending every waking (and unconscious) moment with my 3 amazing children.  I started a side business as a Consultant doing direct marketing (I throw parties where I sell you shit, but it's good shit that helps families like mine live healthier, more flavourful lives and I love it).

I went back to playing soccer after a year off due to the "condition" of having a human draining the life force out of me whilst attached to my inner Mommy parts, went up for a header and came down with a gushing gash on my eyebrow and broken face (and just so you know, I slapped on a Band-Aid band-aid, drove myself home for a quick inspection by my paramedic hubby, then drove myself to the hospital out of town for stitches...because that's how this Soccer-Mommin', van driving (oh ya, got one of those too) Mutha does it).

I spent a summer watching my kids play soccer, bounce in their bouncer, learning to crawl, take their first dance lesson, earn their first medal, cutting the ends off countless freezies, setting up playdates and running out of propane for the barbeque at the most inopportune moments.

We drove (yes drove) the kids to Florida for an incredible family reunion filled with so many wonderful memories, Princess and Pirate makeovers, Haunted Houses, Wizards, overpriced souveniers, and sand in everyone's unmentionables (that I just mentioned) and we loved it.  But I will never do that again.  Wouldn't change a second of the trip, but will never repeat it.

Skip to the fall and I've got a full on grade oner, a kid who NEEDS to be in school but missed out by 15 days and a broken-toothed snuggly bear who has my whole world wrapped around that tiny little finger...you know, the one I'm constantly trying to pull out of random things like ears and noses and electrical sockets.

One month of the school year in and we hit the birthday parties.  Harry Potter for my now 6 year old (which was a huge success because Mama is da BOMB!) and jungle themed for my now toddling 1 year old.  Skip forward a few more days and we have Daphne, a spotted monster and a tiger roaming the hood begging for candy, the addition of another cat and we're into the holidays.

Back to the "real world" of working where I get to talk to grown ups every day (in physical form only...if you know anyone who works in radio it is abundantly clear that we never truly grow up mentally).  Oh and a whole OTHER level of Mommy Guilt...any working mom will know what I mean by that one.

So, as 2012 prepares to come to a close and we await the arrival of  a right jolly old elf who undoubtedly left out the items that the kids just "had" to have, inevitably leaving them whimpering over their mountains of house cluttering crap, I come full circle.  I'm about to hit "publish" on another blog penned after 2a.m., knowing that morning will come far too quickly for a non-coffee drinking Mommy of 3.  It's like I never left.

What Would Your Answer Be?

Earlier this evening I was sitting on my couch scouring Facebook while a cheesy chick flick played partially unnoticed in the background.  A friend of mine posted a link.  I clicked on said link and watched a short video about a woman from New Orleans who, with a simple gesture, created something so incredibly powerful.

By taking the side of an abandoned building in her neighbourhood and turning it into an oversized chalkboard, she, with a simple unfinished sentence, allowed the hopes and dreams of hundreds (and now millions) of people, find a safe place to land.  "Before I die I want to..."

Insert answer here.

Silly, intriguing, superficial, inspiring...whatever the answer, those letters etched in chalk on the wall of that abandoned building are someone's hopes and dreams for what they want their lives to be.

What would your answer be?  How would you complete that sentence if you could answer it with complete anonymity?  Go ahead...think about it...I'll wait...ok that's long enough.  I've got 3 kids, a load in the dryer and I've got to hit the loo before bed.

Now that you have committed to your answer inside your mind, stop being a chicken shit and commit to it on the outside.  Pick up the chalk.  

 
http://www.ted.com/talks/candy_chang_before_i_die_i_want_to.html?source=facebook#.UE1O_jIUC3N.facebook

Remember That Mommy Guilt Thing?

Remember that post I did oh so long ago talking about Mommy Guilt? Man, I don't think I truly knew what I meant back then.

Mommy guilt tripled is exhausting...and never ending.  Today alone, I heard Madison asking if anyone wanted to play with her.  Of course I did, but was it possible right then?  No.  She asked again.  Same answer.  She played by herself for a while, then played with her brother while Daddy and I tried in vain to prepare for our huge road trip that has been in the works for almost 2 years and has somehow snuck up on us.

Two hours later, I hear that goregous little girl of mine ask once again in a sad voice..."Doesn't anyone want to play with me?".  There goes what's left of my heart.  So, setting aside a (finally) smaller mountain of laundry and strapping Ewan into his highchair for a meal of zuccini seasoned with cinnamon, we had at it.  Disney princess figures were transformed into the many different characters of my incredibly creative daughter's newest obesession, Harry Potter.  Accents and all.

I always say that the laundry will still be there when the kids are sleeping, when the kids are at school, when they are cramping their little fingers playing Scooby Doo Wii.  Fur on the floor isn't going to kill anyone and the toilet will still flush if it hasn't been scrubbed since the last time we had company.

Yes, I say all of that, but living it is a very different beast.  I hate constantly having to ask my kids to hang on a second, or tell them I can't sit on the floor and re-enact every scene from Scooby Doo, Harry Potter or Cat in the Hat right now.  I have to clean the kitchen (which truly is my nemesis most days), sweep the floor, or chase down their now mobile little brother before he decides to give himself a pet water facial. 

I love every second that I get to spend with my 3 amazing children.  Even the ones where I want to squish their little heads together.  But (and there's always a but isn't there?), each one of them can make me feel like the worst Mom at times.  Madison has so many wonderful ideas, so many scenes running through that amazing little head that she needs to get out.  And I just don't always have the time or the energy to really let her share them.  Not where she is my only focus like she deserves to be.

Brayden, he is just a little cuddle bug when he's in the mood.  All he really wants is a quick game of Sponge Bob Memory Match (which he is a master of by the way), some chocolate milk and some face time - the actual face to face version, not the Apple kind. 

And Ewan, he just wants Mommy...all day, every day.  I can't even go pee without someone crying...sometimes that someone is me.

Nobody gets my full attention, Andrew included.  The house is never truly clean.  The cat, well he's just a bugger who secretly cuddles with me once everyone else has gone to bed, and the dog (you know, the one with the bullet in her back) looks longingly at all of the other dogs trotting by the house with their leashes in their humans' hands.

If I could split myself in 2 to get things done, I would.  Then again, one half of me would always miss out on something that way, so not really an improvement on the current situation.

And now of course, I'm ignoring even myself.  It's almost 2:30 in the morning and I have yet to go to bed, knowing full well that my 9 month old will be up with the roosters, full of broken toothed smiles and drool skin treatments that really should be bottled and sold.



 

So, what have you been up to?

Ok, so it's been a long while.  A really long while.  It's almost like when you reconnect with an old highschool friend and say "So, what have you been up to for the last 15 years?".  Obviously much has happened, but really, how do you explain it all?

There have been many times when I have wanted to write and share what it's like to be a mother of 3.  But really, my beloved MacBook went tets up (good Lord is that a whole other post and a half) and I can't make it through the next chapter of Harry Potter with Madison each night, let alone have energy left to post any of the few fleeting thoughts I have running through my brain.

Suffice it to say, there has been a lot going on.  Ewan is now 9 months old, Madison has completed kindergarten and looking forward to being a grade "one-r" in the Fall and Brayden has one game left in his inaugural season of soccer.  My dad suffered and survived a heart attack, I fractured my orbital bone and discovered that at some point in her 10 years, my beloved pooch was SHOT and the bullet remains lodged near, but not effecting, her spine.

This past year has been trying, amazing, exhausting, inspiring and many other "ings" I'm just too tired to think of at the moment.

Now that I have a stand-in computer (so not my Macky, but functioning so I will be content...for now), I will be posting more regularly.  Hold back your shouts of glee, I need a nap.