evening out the sides for balance

the house is quiet right now. mostly anyway, i can hear cohen snoring down the hall, yet another thing he picked up from his dad. i am alone in the silence and it is beautiful. i haven't had much of this all week. it has been a tough one.

when cohen was ada's age it was common practice to lie down next to him in our bed for nap time. when he fell asleep i would wedge pillows on either side of him and then get up and attempt to be productive (except for days when i gave up on productivity and voted for napping instead). i would keep the house quiet and listen to hear him babbling upon waking. it was a system that worked. some people rock, or cradle, or stroke soft little foreheads, we always laid next to him. we still do most nights, so it wasn't a surprise that this is the same approach we would take with ada. this method became null and void near the end of last week though when she fell out of bed for the sixth time (five here, once at grandma's). i know, i know, six?!? there should have only been one i suppose but i kept tempting fate, believing i would get there fast enough when she woke, and probably a little of being lazy as well. it would work if she wasn't so quiet when she wakes up. silent. there is no other time in the day when she is quiet. she makes parrots and monkeys seem sedate, always singing and shouting, or crying. all the time, except when i want her to. she is that kind of a kid.

so last week when she fell again without warning i decided that enough was enough, never again. sleeping has been a disaster ever since. she doesn't want to be rocked and will pinch your cheeks hard and then harder until you stop with the rocking. cradling is a no go as well, fidgeting and rolling over in my arms is her solution for that one. i tried lying down with her on the living room floor on a blanket but she wasn't going to be fooled, the moment i thought she was asleep and attempted to get up she started to crawl away, smiling. so then what?

crying. that is the cold hard fact here. it is either crying, letting her stay awake all the time, or going for trips in the car every time i want her to sleep. the last one does seem tempting and might even be the solution if cohen wasn't so uppity about leaving the house. so we have been letting her cry to get to sleep. this has worked out ok so far at night, as she goes to bed before cohen, but for naps it just isn't working. she has stamina and conviction, she is, as they say, a tough cookie to crack. so i let her cry and then i go lie with cohen, but then her cries step up a notch and i feel i should go see her and cohen gets up to follow me. this goes on for half an hour or more some days. he can't relax if she is crying and i can't go in and calm her (somehow?) if he is awake and stepping on my coat tales. it is an impossible predicament. napping with two takes impeccable timing, rock solid instincts and significantly more patience than i currently possess. today the process took 2 hours. 2 hours! just when i threw my hands in the air and thought "to hell with both of you, if you don't want to sleep then fine don't sleep, see if i care!" i look in and he is fast asleep, exhausted from his attempts to foil me. today it was 1:45, a decent time. yesterday it wasn't until 3. i guess i should just be glad he naps at all. i know.

right now i am glad to have this moment of silence. i think i will go make myself a cup of tea. of course as soon as the water is boiled one of them will wake up, that is just how it works. until then i will let the fantasy be real.


this is the latest in an installation i like to call "cohen's head wounds". this one was achieved last night when he ran into the car door. ouch.

i'm mad as hell and i'm not going to take it anymore

i read an article recently in the new york times about children and tantrums, i would link you to it, but for me recently usually means sometime in the last 2 months, and i don't much feel like sifting through archives, so you'll have to take my word for it. it was pretty standard fare, as far as articles go, but like most times articles the comments got fairly interesting. there were several high on their horse parents who came right out and said it, my children never have tantrums. some even went so far as to give advice, don't leave the house when it may be close to nap time, or eating time, or i just feel like being a pint size jerk time, because if you don't leave the house then no one will see the tantrum, and if no one sees it, IT DIDN"T HAPPEN. they didn't say that last part, but i am saying it for them, because i don't believe them. there, i said it. i don't. better put is i can't, to believe that it is possible to have a two year old who never, not ever, has a tantrum is to understand that another way is possible and that, well that just seems incredibly depressing.

we were at the park today, the sun was shining, and there were lots of other kids. it was perfect for mingling, cohen's favourite thing to do. he was laughing and running and cheerful. after an hour i asked him if he wanted to go to the thrift store and look for a new toy, to which he promptly replied "new toy!" and started running towards the store. every couple of weeks we go into the mennonite thrift store to have a look, buy a truck or a boat or some other thing that we don't need, and then he holds it contently in the stroller as he hums the whole way home. it makes me happy, it makes him happy, it makes the mennonites happy, and on a good day it doesn't make ada unhappy, so it is a win all around. it wasn't to be today though, oh no, it was not. i could tell shortly after we got in there that it was going to turn south. first it was climbing on riding toys to reach the higher shelf, and then pulling out all those little plastic bags filled with plastic crap and scattering them on the floor. i was right behind him picking then up and putting them away, asking him calmly if he saw something he would like, one thing that we could take home. i don't even think he was aware i was there, every now and again batting towards his ear as though i was a fly that kept landing there, making him itch. go away mom, i am making a ruckus over here and i need space. i would give him the freedom to explore, but those mennonite ladies aren't fond of that, and one of them had already come over and given me a talking to about the mess, she wanted to ensure i was on it and that nothing would be left out where others could hurt themselves. i guess she didn't see me picking things up at the speed of light, nor my negotiation tactics with the small human. so finally i picked him up and tried to talk rationally with him. that bit right there is often where it goes wrong, the rational part. it isn't that he can't understand rational thinking, because thank goodness, he finally can, but i usually attempt to deliver it about 30 seconds after he is capable of it.

so he starts thrashing in my arms, kicking, screaming. it was a doozer, a full out no holds barred spectacle. given the best stunt man and special effects unit i doubt he could have done better. ada, in the stroller, starts screaming too, it is a full man attack, and so i admit defeat and begin the march of shame out of there. the old ladies are scowling, the young punks are teetering and whispering that they are glad they don't have kids, the middle age indian man is shaking his head, it is awful. cohen hasn't stopped for one second, he is actually kicking my leg as hard as he can while i try and hold him, negotiate the stroller with one hand and open the stupid front door that pushes in instead of out. no one came to help, no one felt any sympathy for me, or it didn't feel like it. apparently, like manhattan mother, their kids don't have tantrums.



to be fair to cohen and to myself, he doesn't have tantrums like this very often, but when he does it tests me like nothing else in parenthood has. it is so easy to yell and get angry, it even feels good to do it, but the true test is to be able to take a deep breath, and show understanding in the face of all the commotion, to see that being two is a pretty tough job, and it is. today i did ok. today i was calm. it isn't always the case.

so this is the part where you tell me i am not alone, have any good tantrum stories?

the hardest part

i am having such a hard time with this tonight. i have been sitting at this desk for an hour and half, eating trail mix, and wishing i had just started the new david sedaris book instead of attempting to write this, the post which seems impossible to write.

i am feeling so inadequate these days and if i am to share that then i need to make sure that the words i tell it with are anything but, as though the words will make up for all the shortcomings. they won't, and i suppose i would argue that my shortcomings aren't really that at all, but simply misplaced expectations and a penchants for being the underdog anyway. i know this, just as i know that i shouldn't bite my nails and i should drink more water, yet still it is there. i can half joke about it tonight because today was a good day. more and more my days are falling into this category, which is maybe why i can come here and write about it at all, or try anyway. i have learned that for me there are some things that just can't be put into words, or at least not my own, opting instead to listen to others and nod with understanding.

life with two kids has been tough for me. i thought i would be better at it, the juggling, and reassuring, and nurturing. i don't have enough time for ada, and every time i blink she is bigger and stronger and one step closer to growing up. most day i feel like i am missing it. cohen, who is fiercely independent in his personality, is also a highly social being, and doesn't thrive on independent play, at least not for any length of time. it is hard to find enough undivided time for him during the day, he is alway needing more. i feel anxiety if the house is too messy, i make lists in my head of the things that need doing. the lists are quiet at first, but soon they are shouting at me. i have tried to keep the lists to the bare minimum, to not expect too much, but even just food on the table, clean clothes in the drawers and a watered garden can keep me busy until well past dark. i feel like i am losing a part of myself in this process, becoming someone new, unfamiliar.

this is the surface of the truth, the real truth is of course somewhere deeper. i think about maia, about how in the months after she died all i could think about was how much i needed something to hold. i would wrap galena up in a towel and rock her in my arms while i sang. i knew i was crazy, but it was too much, the yearning, i couldn't bear to face it. i think about all those other mothers out there who are mourning the loss of their babies, or the dreams of someday having one. i have no business being sad, or frustrated or overwhelmed. i owe it to those mothers, to my former self, to be something stronger. i am trying, everyday i am trying. i am not sure it is enough.

when maia died i read the words of others who were walking in my same shoes, they felt alone, as though no one understood. i never felt that way. somehow i managed to find a community of people who shared that grief, i felt surrounded. in this though, the weight of motherhood, i feel alone, as though it is not ok to say it is not ok. i have the photos with smiling faces, and charming summer anecdotes, all of the things that would make it seem like everything is fine, but they don't feel honest, not until i come right out and say that as a mother i am a work in progress, years from perfection, but miles away from giving up. if there are other mothers out there reading, especially those of two (or more), i would love to know how the transition from one to two went? did it get easier over time?

fourty + two

hello! my two days of rest and relaxation are over now, and thank goodness. i know that sounds strange, but parenting is a little like that. on sunday night i was bone tired and craved an entire nights sleep, it was all i could think about. once cohen was gone to grandma's i crawled into bed and cracked open a book, it was heaven. by last night though, after a full day of being lazy and a long nights sleep, i was missing him like crazy. of course i still enjoyed my lazy day today, and i am finally starting to feel a lot better (the cough is hanging on, but barely), but i am also glad to have him back making his choo choo noises and whisking his cars around on the floor.

no news on the baby front. i was at the doctor today but it was pretty routine. it sounds like the game plan is an ultrasound and non-stress test at the hospital on monday, if there is no baby yet, and then possibly being put on the induction list for next wednesday. i have a feeling something will happen before then though, although i guess you just never know.

back in black

so many joys these days, and so many challenges as well. cohen's personality is exploding and with it has come many exciting things. i have heard people mention the filling of their heart, the gushing of their pride and the previously unkown happiness that having a child brings, i have even said it myself, but only recently have i realized that for everytime i think it, or say it, i will turn around and it will get even better, even bigger and more full and i will think that before i didn't know joy, before was just a warm up for this, and i suppose it was. it is the only thing in my life so far that has lived up to the adage that it really does get better all the time.

i am loving this age so much that some days i think i am going to burst from the experience of it, and yet at the same time it is so trying that there are days when i spend the entire afternoon on the verge of tears.

i have a passionate child. he isn't the sort of kid who wobbles or stands on fences, he is sure and determined and so very strong willed. this makes him prones to outbursts of affection, large bear hugs and smiles as wide as a canyon, deep burrowing in cuddles and kisses over and over again on my cheek, but also fits of frustration, body limp, feet stamping and arms flailing. he shouts gibberish in the hallyway to hear himself echo and he dances around the room when i put on the stereo, his arms flailing around above his head, his feet marching up and down and up and down to the beat. he will bang on his drum and pound on his piano so fiercely that the walls vibrate, and then he will stop without warning, point his finger at me and say "mom" in the softest voice, a smile emerging across his face. he loves to explore and to get into trouble, throwing things in the toilet when my back is turned or running for the littler box hands out to grab. this afternoon he figured out how to screw the lid off of the fish food, pellets streaming across the floor, his hand tightly clutching only a few for a taste. yells of frustration when i cleaned his hands and vacuumed the mess, a waste of his effort.

so where is the bad? well, it is in there. the fits, the mischeviousness, the determination. in my heart i am glad he is who is, independent and strong, but in my body it is sometimes pretty tough. fighting to get dressed and then fighting to go in the stroller, fighting when he doesn't want to get out of the bath or leave the swing. it isn't because he doesn't want to do these things, it is because he wants to be the one to decide when we do it. he wants to be in control. it is easy to feel like a bad mom. a slip of patience, a moment of frustration and i feel crushed, incapable. i know that i need to maintain the control and yet language is still a barrier and so boundaries are hard to create. patterns are being set up now and i want to make sure they are the right ones, but some days it is tough not to just do the thing that seems easiest. bad nights these days mean bad days as well, there is no more afternoon nap or lazy morning lounging, it is up early sleep or no sleep and then home to dinner and laundry and playing and bath and story and then bed, then sometimes when there is a moment, there is this.

i guess what i am saying is that i am starting to understand how parenting can be the hardest job in the world, that is isn't always as easy as it looks. however, it is moments like this afternoon when i arrived to pick him up from the nanny share, the way his eyes lit up and his grin stretched from ear to ear when he saw me, the way he ran over to me with his arms outstretched for a hug, quickly followed by an adamant wave goodbye to his nanny as if to say "i have somewhere better to be now, home with mom", that it is all worth while.

you say you don't want to run and hide

today was swimming thursday (we went last week on thursday as well, so now, with little to back it up, i am declaring thursday swim day). this week we went with marita and atticus. it was his first time in the pool and i must say he did very well. very well indeed. there may have been moments of hesitation (or was it meditation?), but they quickly faded into glee. i hope that our future holds many more swim thursdays (or wednesdays, or fridays...well you get the point).

in other news, yesterday morning cohen and i went out for a walk to the store, and a bit of a strange thing happened. i should preface this story with the fact that i have never been stung by a wasp. honest. never. as a result i have an unusual fear of them. in theory i realize that a sting wouldn't hurt that much (i mean i did give birth after all), but it is the not knowing that freaks me out. maybe i am deathly allergic? remote, but still possible (and yes i know i get one freebie before i swell up to the size of a grape and burst). oh sure, there have been moments where i have considered just putting myself in harms way to get it over with, but those moments almost always end with me changing my mind and then running around in circles waving my arms in the air and breathing short quick breaths.

so what does this have to do with our walk? well, there was this moment along the way when a wasp landed on the arm of the stroller, just inches away from cohen's happily flailing arm and instead of my usual instinct (which is to start the circle running and strange breathing), i was filled with this desire to grab it, to have it firmly in my grasp, to make it impossible for it to hurt him. i had absolutely no fear of the wasp, but only this deep rooted need to protect at all cost. as i reached down (and really i would have shooed it away first, i mean i am not a madman) it flew away on it's own. it left an impression though. in that small moment i understood a little deeper what it means to be a mother, how far i would go on instinct alone just to ensure safety. i am not sure parenting changes you (although i may be wrong yet), as much as brings to the surface these things, things we all carry with us yet have never known. everyday is a discovery.

also, thanks to everyone who chimed in with your humour and support of the cage. it softened the edges of my guilt and made me thankful for friends.

glad to see you again

i don't mean to stay away so long, honest. it just sort of happens sometimes, well lot's of the time really. i think that is one of the worst things about having a blog, thinking about the fact that you haven't written anything. if you have a moderate number of frequent visitors you feel as though you have let them down if you don't say something, but on the other hand you feel like a bit of a schmuck if you come here and post another boring post about nothing. so conflicted.

the big news is that i have decided that crafting blogs are my new mommy blog, and as a result have spent more time on my sewing machine then on the computer. there are so many creative people out there making such simple and yet wonderful creations that i quickly felt a need to be a part of it. i am not so great at the crafting stuff, but i sure do love to try, all the colourful fabrics and textures, the buttons and stitching. so wonderful. of course there is the continuous envy of these women who do fantastic work in a seemingly flawless and nonchalant manner, the way they make creativity look like a reflex. still, i think i would rather watch these blogs in wonder and feel the urge to "do" then read the mommy blogs and feel inadequate. it is all about where i am in the cycle i suspect.

you see, i have learned that being a mom is a very up and down job. when it is up there is no greater place to be then home with your child playing or singing, just present, but when you are down the world looks pretty bleak. my self esteem goes out the window and i convince myself that no one likes me and that everything i do is useless. i can't get motivated to clean and yet i feel ashamed that the place is so messy. i don't shower often enough or leave the house as much as i should. i mostly just wait for this thing to pass and for the good to return. lately i have been going through this, the down. it is a combination of so many things i guess, the change of season, the boredom of routine, small human mobility and an instability in my surrounding and of course hormones. so the mommy blogs have been tough to handle lately, some more than others (friend's blogs excluded, naturally).

i have to thank klay for inspiring me to find the creative outlet through links on her blog and then a multitude of links from there. i look forward to taking this energy and placing it somewhere positive while i wait this thing out, hopefully spring will be here soon.

*the photos are of nicole's quaint abode where i spent the majority of my last saturday night. the company, as always, was just as charming as the surroundings.