Compliments

We all know kids say the darndest things, typically they tell the truth, nice or not. I have told you of stories, usually to my embarrassment of Sam telling it how he sees it. These days he is learning to express himself even more clearly. Just the other day I had a morning out getting a new hair color and a cut. I needed the new "do" but really needed a break from my kids. I got home just as Sam was heading upstairs to bed. Secretly I was happy about arriving at this time, knowing I would have another few kid free hours. Sam came down the stairs to see my new coif, he gave me a hug and kiss and whispered in my ear "Mommy, you look like beautiful like a horse running through a pasture". I smiled and told my husband I wasn't sure what kind of compliment that was, all I processed was that I looked like a horse. As the clock ticks I feel a little long in the face, but couldn't believe that my 2 year old saw the resemblance too! Erik responded that for Sam, that was just about the prettiest thing he could conger up. Hmmmm, then the image of a graceful palomino galloping through a green meadow popped up and I realized I have succeeded in training my kid. Really, I think he is equipped with some of the most valuable skills he will need in life. Being able to schmooze up (brown nosing I think we call it) will help him to get what he wants (from me at least). Since then Sam has come up with a few other doozies, the nicest being that I am like a chocolate chip cookie with many many chocolate chips in it!!!

We have had a great summer filled with so much fun with the kids. My Sam is growing up and becoming more and more independent. I think he is just the perfect age right now, he is big enough to do some things on his own and small enough to love to cuddle and be held. The other night we were reading stories in my new King size bed before bed time. His little hand was holding mine while we read a story, when we were finished we were chatting about our new bed and I told him it was soo big that if we slept there together we wouldn't have to touch at all. He thought about that for a minute then said "Well that's not very good because I like to feel you when we cuddle". Do I ever love that kid.

Birthdays

I just turned 25 for the 9^th time. My husband is a year younger than me AND he has been ID'd three times this summer. Celebrating birthdays (aka "aging") has never been my thing.

These days though I have nothing but birthdays on my mind. Both my husband and I just celebrated our mid thirties and both of my kids birthdays are coming up. Actually, Shiloh was due one year ago today.... I remember very clearly the agony I was in just one short year ago, begging that baby to leave my body alone!

Shiloh will be one next week, and Sam 3 next month. My baby years are officially over. I am trying hard to feel sorry for myself, well up some kind of sad feeling and wither myself into a big blue funk. Fortunately it hasn't happened. So far, for me my kids always seem "the perfect age". I remember when Sam was a baby; I would see moms with toddlers and feel secretly sorry for them that their baby was gone. But as Sam grows I forget (sadly) the little guy he once was and marvel at the little boy he is becoming. As Shiloh grows into a big baby I am so happy to get see her powerful personality that seemed to take awhile to shine in that smaller baby of 6 months ago.

Shiloh is just about the cutest, cuddliest, jolly hardy laughing baby I have ever known. She is headstrong, and thick skinned; both good qualities when you have a smartypants big brother trying to steal the spot light all the time. She is beautiful. Really, it is not just because she is mine, I really think the kid is something else (she also looks a lot like meJ...that is my big head floating around cyber space).

Everyday I find many reasons to celebrate who my kids are right at that moment. Today Shiloh spent 20 minutes putting her head inside a box and squealing with delight at the hollow darkness before she peaked out to do it all over again. Yesterday Sam pointed out Sheldon`s (the dog) ``big stiffy`` as he was pooping in the park. Embarrassing yes, but I will gladly take it when I also get days like today. Today Sam was sitting on top of my neighbours slide, there were about 4 kids waiting for him to go down the slide and a few parents standing around waiting for their kids turn. I was trying to get Sam to come down when he put his little hand up in the air and said ``Mommy, I just have something to say.........I just love you....(long pause) because I miss you a lot (I had been shopping for an hour) and I just love you when you are with me.`` How could I possibly wish he was any form of himself other than that one right thereÉ I am sure that all the other parents were wishing it was their kid talking to them like that.

So in the next few weeks Shi will graduate to not counting her life in months but in years, and Sam will be 3, which according to him is big enough to do just about anything.

These are the `days of our lives` and they are pretty great!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back

After all the support and kind words I have received from those of you who liked to read about the good, bad and ugly bits of Gitter life I have decided to reactivate my blog. So, get yourself a morning coffee, and a few minutes of piece and join me. (I usually hide behind a locked bathroom door.....my kids will grow up thinking I have some serious gastrointestinal issues coupled with a bad bladder infection, but the few minutes of solitude are well worth it).

So you might think that after 2 months of silence I would be brimming with stories to tell, not so much. It has been a very busy, but fun summer. We spent a week at a cottage, followed by a week camping with the kids and the cousins. The cottage was great...the camping not so much. I have seen people camping with kids before; I am not sure which cult they belonged to. My Shi is now 11 months old and crawling very well. Taking her to a 60X40 ft dirt area, brimmed by 6ft of poison ivy on all sides perhaps not such a smart idea. Shiloh was really dirty about 2.5 minutes after we got there, she had eaten at least 2 stones, a beer bottle cap (from the fire pit she was playing in) and the odd left over morsel of food with a cigarette butt chaser. No wonder she wouldn`t stay in her seat for dinner that night.

My girl loved the dirt, almost as much as she loved the mud pools we made for her by the lake. She was content to be dirty, have black fingernails, and a particularly great area around her ears and neck where she drooled her milk while she slept, the dirt stuck to these parts really well. She couldn`t have cared less. I tried to be easy going about it. I cut off a pair of Sam`s s old splash pants so she could muck about around the camp site without getting to gross. It seemed like the perfect solution. Then the bugs came out, I was wielding a Costco sized can of bug repellent and dutifully spayed my kids clothes. The pants melted to her legs. What a nightmare.

The bugs loved eating my kids faces. Sam was afraid of the after bite cream and poor Shi was too young to swat them away. We went home when they both had +15bites on their wee faces. Actually, we went home a day early. The last night as I slept with one eye opened, I wondered why Sam was curled up in the corner of the tent. So I got up to get him and tuck him back into his sleeping bag. He woke to tell me that he was too hot and sweaty...hmmm, I had a sweater on and was still cool. Sam had peed the bag! He was wet from his socks to his caller. I stripped him down, gave him my sleeping bag and then noticed that we were all slipping around in a layer of pee, nice. Shiloh woke with all the commotion and could not be persuaded to go back to sleep, so after 30minutes of clean up at 5:15am I headed out with Shi. I knew I couldn`t stay in the camp site for fear of waking everyone up and being breakfast for a million hungry bugs, so off we went to the water. I walked her back and forth the water front until around 6:20am when she finally fell asleep. I waited in a semi-conscience state on a big rock, for the rest of the camp to wake up, Sam and his dad finally came for us around 7:30am, the coffee was made thank God!

The sleeping pads where covered in pee, my sleeping bag and Sam`s. Ahhhh the smell. I couldn`t do it anymore. After 5 nights we packed it in and came home.

I used to be an avid camper, Gitter and I would spend summers in Algonquin canoeing and portaging. Then I couldn`t imagine the confines of car camping. Now, looking back at it, I am really glad that we went. I have packed away the camping gear for the year and started saving for that cottage. I am sure I will like camping again one day, but camping with 4 kids and a baby is at least one baby too many, and quite possibly 4 kids too many as well!!!! I look forward to a cottage with a Bunkie for the kids. Hopefully I won`t be too tired come bed time that I can`t enjoy a drink or 6.

copy cat

The other day I found myself shouting at Sam to "STOP SCREAMING AT ME". It is at this point that I had to take a deep breath and realize whose behaviour it was that my kid was modelling. There is no doubt about the impact our actions, attitudes and mannerisms have on our kids. I have read that the single largest influence on a child is their same sex parent. My husband and I have talked before about what a great responsibility this is, and certainly how knowing the influence you have helps you to be a better person. I have also read before that you should never marry someone if they have qualities you wouldn't want to see in your kids. Sam looks just like me, but boy he wants to be just like his daddy.

When I was pregnant with Sam, the first thing Erik bought was a ball. He had big ideas about the passion he would instil for all things game. Sam could sit and "play ball" long before he could do anything else. There are at least 20 balls in my house; each one has its purpose. I know this because I often "hide" them hoping they will not notice, I make a pact that if the ball is MIA unnoticed for a few days it will secretly make its way to the garbage...this has never happened.

I take Sam to watch his dad play basketball every week. He loves it and wants to do everything that the big men do. I have caught him wiping the sweat (in his case it is likely a boogieJ) off of his face on his shirt. The other day I bought Sam a treat...two pair of basketball shorts with matching "muscle" shirts, just like the big men wear. Unfortunately I didn't anticipate the impact this would have. Sam is soo happy. He tells me every day, right before he demands to wear his basket ball outfit. It has been 6 days, he has yet to wear anything else. The kicker is that when he sees his dad play ball, all the "big men" are wearing socks. Sam MUST wear socks too, long white socks pulled up to his knees. I have to plead and beg and promise to bring the socks with us to get him to leave the house without him.

As I mentioned, I bought him TWO outfits. This was working out well, as we alternated each day. But then Sam realized something, his daddy often changed outfits when playing basketball, a light shirt for a dark shirt kindof thing. Well, Sam now wants to switch teams periodically during the day. Blue for red, red for blue. Is this a battle worth fighting....not likely. So, should you see a 2 year old in the park with basketball shorts to below his knees, socks pulled up past his knees, a muscle shirt and his hat on backwards, please know this is not my idea of trendy dressing. And should that two year old start to strip down, and change his colors, please know he is just switching teams and in his eyes he is just like his daddy and all the other "big" men out there.

truth be told

I have a lot of things to do...the laundry...the bed...the dinner...the bills...etc. Today, however is officially my last day of mat leave. I start back to work on Monday, but am going in tomorrow to get reacquainted with the place. So, now that I have put both my beauties down for their naps and the house is quiet I am thinking about taking a few minutes to myself to breath. in and out in and out.

I am going to lay it all out, I feel like I need a release. Today I am feeling better, yesterday was possibly one of the saddest days I have had in a long long time. Some would say sad for no reason, but I am finding reason enough. I am flip flopping from feeling incredibly sorry for myself that I have to go back to work, and incredibly guilty and sorry for my baby who seems to have a bad case of mommyitis.

The former was certainly winning out yesterday. Why am I so sad about going back to work? Well, it has nothing to do with the work part, I haven't even really thought about the actual job. I am just so sad about leaving Shiloh. I went back to work when Sam was a year, and I certainly knew I was going to miss him, but I didn't feel this heaviness. I can only guess as to why, but I think I felt I had my time with Sam. With Shiloh it seemed it took an awfully long time to really get to know her, to fall madly deeply in love with her. I would say about six months. I guess I was just busy looking after a toddler and managing on very little sleep that I just went through the motions. Now she is 9 months old, and just about the cutest thing I have ever seen. Her eyes light up when you talk to her, she dances back and forth when you sing, and claps, waves and plays peek a boo to get your attention. She has a low little voice, and when she babbles "ma-ma-ma-ma-mama" it's the best feeling. With Sam I had this connection from the first week he was born, but I also had all day to stare at him and touch him. Now it seems we have just gotten there with Shiloh, she is sleeping better I believe b/c she has a better connection. I could go on and on about all the great parts about my kid and the things I am going to miss, but mostly it is just being with her. Also, I look at Sam and can't remember him as a baby and I know that before I know it Shiloh will be growing up and it is very likely that again, I will not remember her, as she is now...

The curse of motherhood guilt I have talked of before. I am hoping this will pass, as Shiloh becomes accustomed to being away and manages better. Right now she is a happy little girl. She sleeps well through the day and only cries when she is really in need of something. When I leave her it seems she cries from the moment I leave, and I return to a horribly exhausted looking child and an equally exhausted looking care giver. What mother wouldn't feel guilty for putting their kids through that? If I thought it would take just a few days and she would get over it I wouldn't feel so bad but my girl has staying power. Remember the one who woke up 4-6 times a night for a good 7-8 months? I am thinking she will finally start calming down about week 4 and then we will almost be done.

Husbands I am sure do not understand this feeling, after all they leave their kids everyday to go to work...so what is my problem? I don't have an answer to that except to say that we are wired differently. Don't misunderstand that I yearn to be a stay at home mom permanently; I have no desire to do that. I recognize that I need some outlets outside my kids. Shiloh has just started to be such fun to be around.

So, to all those people who have asked "are you excited about going back to work" just know that when I say no I would really like to be telling you where to stick it.

waddle or something else….

This one needs little preamble…..

Act one

Location: I am sitting in our very tiny downstairs bathroom, while Shiloh tries to hurdle herself over me to reach the ultimate goal….the toilet. Sam is sitting on his potty, pleading for a once upon a time story.

Sam: Mommy what this is? (Grabbing his "goods" as he sits on the potty)

Me: THAT is your scrotum and THAT is you penis.

Sam: hmm (as he pees all over my wall for the millionth time)

 

Act two

Location: In line at the grocery store…(I am going to stop taking him shopping with me)

Sam: (pointing to a small ancient lady in line behind us in the express isle) Mommy, why that lady have a srotum on her chin?

Me: shade of scarlet, swallowed my tongue…speechless….

 

the score:

Sam 10 at least

Mommy zip

Objects in the Review Mirror

I know this blog is supposed to be about my kids....but I am blaming this one on my kids, so in essence it is about them.

My husband is worried about my "baby brain". Let's be honest, I never was the quickest cat in the box, but two babies in just as many years and sometimes I would swear my brain had been replaced with cottage cheese. I have so many stories of dumbness I am not sure where to start. I'll just let you in on last week's dozies and I am sure you will get how dire the situation is.

Brain Fart 1

Last week marked Shiloh's 9 month of life. For both Sam and Shiloh I have celebrated their first years monthly birthday with a picture of them holding a sign saying "look at me, I am ___ months old today.." and then I write the days date on the bottom of the sign, and update on what the kids is up to, like I have one tooth kind of thing. Well last week I knew it was Shiloh's birthday but never go around to taking the picture, I told everyone that it was here 9 month birthday and I had full intention of taking a picture the next day. Well, today I got the sign out (I reuse the same sign every month just update what it says) and there was last month's date..April 11^th....hmmm that is interesting, I was celebrating on the 13^th....How do you suppose the Duggers can do it when I apparently cannot keep the dates straight between my two kidsÉ

Brain Fart 2

On Thursday of last week I headed out after dinner to watch my husband play basket ball. When I got to bball I could not find Shi`s bottle anywhere. I had made it and I knew I had brought it out of the house...this wouldn`t be so much of an issue except my picky daughter will only drink out of one of the million or so bottles we have around the house....not to fret though as when I drove down the road on my way home there was my babies bottle, mid road covered in mud but otherwise unharmed.

Brain Fart 3...and counting

The next day I had a busy one we were going out for the whole day and most of the night. Packing for two small kids I think I had 3 bags, 2 strollers one sling....27 diapers...you get the picture. I also had my black book, my lifeline. This black book keeps me in touch with all my friends, helps me to remember when to pay my bills and thankfully reminds me of my family members' birthdays. It is important to my mental health. When I got to my destination, my black book was not in the car or one of the three bags I had brought along. I figured I left it at home. When I returned that night after 10pm there was a msg on my machine from a guy about 10 minutes down the highway from my house. He had rescued my black book from the middle of the road as it flew off the roof of my car.

I figure I currently have the brain capacity of my 9 month old daughter...but she is gaining on me.