I'm Grateful, too!

Lately on Facebook, I've seen all sorts of friends posting about the things they're grateful for.  Apparently it's supposed to spread from friend to friend, until we are all forced to take a moment and remember the things in our lives that truly make us grateful.  I have yet to be nominated in this Facebook game, and I've got lots to be grateful for... so I'll share them here.

1.  I'm grateful for my husband, who loves me no matter how bat-crap-crazy I act.  I'm grateful he understands that, at this particular time in my life, hormones are raging, sleep is lacking, and I may act like a crazy psychopath without any real reason (although, to be fair, I'm pretty sure that in the moment, forgetting to take out the compost is a damn good reason to lose one's shit.)

2.  I'm grateful for my kids.  They are sweet and adorable and make me smile.  They also make me scream, cry, and feel like a complete and total failure sometimes.  So...

3.  I'm grateful for dark closets, where I can escape for a few minutes of silence and, perhaps, sneak a bag of chips that I don't have to share with my kids.  Sure, the smell of dirty gym clothes rotting in the hamper may make me gag a little, but not even foul sweat socks can deter a mom from a few moments alone (especially with a snack that is all her own)!

4.  I'm grateful for my friends.  Without their stories of how horrible their kids are, I would feel like a total failure and wonder if I somehow broke my own children.  Because of their supportive anecdotes, I realize that for the most part, as parents, we all suck equally.

5.  I'm thankful for my parents, who have yet to use the "serves you right for being the little shit you were when growing up" moral of the story on me.  Also, they think my kids are adorable and would happily share custody of them if I ever decided to check into a facility to regain my sanity.

6.  I'm grateful for my siblings, who remind me that there is nothing like the bond between brothers and sisters.  Which also reminds me... I should probably stock up on bandaids, slings, and rubbing alcohol.  Things are going to get messy.

7.  I'm grateful for my job.  Without it, I probably wouldn't have had an "oh-my-God-Danny-let's-have-another-baby-because-I-don't-know-much-longer-I-can-take-it" moment.  And then where would Jax be?  Also, because of work, I get maternity benefits from EI.  A full year of no work, with (minimal) pay.  And for that, I am also grateful.

8.  I'm grateful for Dyson vacuums.  Seriously, those things are the shiznat.  And with three kids, two pets, and a husband, I need a rockin' vacuum.  For my husband to use.

9.  I'm grateful for doors.  Particularly bathroom doors.  Because if I run fast enough, I can close one before my kids join me for a poop, and I may get 5 minutes all to myself.  Okay, maybe 3 minutes.  And there's always knocking.  And little toes sticking under that door.

10.  I'm grateful for Pinterest.  It inspires me to be a better a person, mother, and wife.

11.  I'm grateful for beer.  It makes me feel better when Pinterest has also made me feel like a total failure as a person, mother, and wife.  Who in the hell can make all those crafty things, cook all those healthy meals, stick to an exercise plan, have lunches pre-made for the week, decorate a cake to look like cookie monster, and clean their whole house with vinegar and blue Dawn anyway?  Stupid Pinterest.

12.  I'm also grateful for wine.  Because it comes in a box, ready to serve, and makes me feel like a "classy lady," even when I haven't showered in days and I'm covered in somebody else's throw-up.  Cabernet Sauvignon, anyone?

13.  Finally, I'm grateful for Facebook.  It gives me a sense of "keeping in touch" with people so I don't feel like a complete loser without any real friends, even though I haven't left the house in days.  Also, without it, I wouldn't see all the drama and horrible shit that goes on in other people's lives.  Because of that, I truly see all that I have to be grateful for: husband, kids, family, and friends; and, because of that, I realize how f'n awesome my life truly is.

Two years later...

It's hard to believe it's been two years since you were born, Ella!  I remember the anticipation of having a second child... worrying about what it would do to Gracie, wondering how we would handle a second kid, and yet we've made it through 730 days, 24 months, two full years!

You have been the most exhausting child at times.  I remember thinking that Gracie had a lot of attitude.  And then I met you, and realized Gracie's personality and attitude is one of the most dependable, unchangeable things in our lives.  You can be angry, sad, vicious, recalcitrant, whiny, and a steroid-infused version of a terrible-two.  But, oh my... you can also be the sweetest, gentlest, most kind little girl I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  You laugh at everything... and not a little giggle, but an out-loud, makes-me-laugh-too, kind of laugh. You wipe my kisses off and tell me they're yucky, but run to your sister to put your arm around her and rub her back when she's crying.

With you, we have to say everything at least twice.  Probably closer to five times before you decide to listen.  At bedtime, instead of sitting down to enjoy a story, you race around the house, thinking it's great fun and make us chase you.  Most times that ends with us yelling at you to get your butt to the couch and listen to a story.  But on the days that we remember that you're just having fun, we growl and chase you and you laugh and scream until we drag you, hanging upside down, back to the couch.

You throw yourself to the floor and refuse to get up in a typical toddler tantrum.  The threat of a time-out means nothing to you if you decide that your tantrum is more important.  If you do end up in time-out, you stand your ground with your arms crossed and your bottom lip so far out a bird could build a nest on it.  When made to apologize for your wrongdoing, you rarely uncross your arms, and yell "sorry" at us like that word itself is the most horrible thing you've ever had to say.

When we put you to bed, you talk and talk and talk and talk, and throw your toys on the floor, and then pick up your toys, then throw them again.  You bang your feet against the wall.  You yell at Gracie for falling asleep before you were done talking to her.  You drive us crazy when, an hour after putting  you to bed, you're still talking!  We've started putting you to bed first, before Gracie, and I now often find you 15 minutes later, passed out, feet on the wall, toys on the floor, and head hanging over the bed.  But every now and then, I find you tucked under your blankets, in the same position as when I first left the room, and I can't help but smile and think of how much energy you must have used up that day to fall asleep so fast.

You, my beautiful Ella, truly are the most exhausting child.  A real trouble-maker.  A little hellion.  But for every hellish little moment you create, there are a million other sweet ones, and that beautiful smile reminds me that, as bad as you can be, you are truly amazing, and I wouldn't trade you for any other two-year-old out there!  Because of all the Ellas in the world, you are my favourite!

 

Oh, Boy!

Well it's been a full month at home with the new little man, and I've already learned a few things... 

First of all, the penis is as scary a thing as I feared!  At changing time, I still just kind of stare it, not really knowing what to do with it.  The damn thing terrifies me.  And there are more cracks and crevices to wipe around than with a girl, I hate to tell all you "cleaning it is so easy" advocates.  I am proud to announce, however, that I have yet to be peed on.  I call that a parenting-a-boy success.  Danny, for the record, has been peed (and pooed) on numerous times.  Sucker.

Next, I would like to say that, so far, Jax has proven himself to be a typical man.  My boobs have never been bigger, and he enjoys them.  Every. Two. Hours.  Okay, so that's settled down a little bit since the first week we brought him home.  But seriously... every two hours?! When a friend of mine asked how it was going with him, and I mentioned this, she said, "Yup!  That's a boy for you!"  For those of you who don't know, I'm a great advocate of breastfeeding, but I'm the first to admit I hate it.  I hate every single minute of doing it, and every two hours made me want to chop them off.

Also, like a man, this little boy can fart.  I mean, the girls were all gassy at this age too, but Jax can clear a room!  More than once I've yelled at Danny, only to discover it was actually Jax's handiwork smelling up the car.  And once he pooped so loud, it stopped Ella stone-cold in the middle of a tantrum.

We've also had some of the regular poo blow-outs.  As a mother of an infant, you quickly learn to pack extra clothes and blankets and wipes when travelling in case your darling little child decides to shit right through their clothes.  We've experienced it with both girls, and we were pretty sure we had seen the worst of the worst.  Until Jax.  I had stopped at the EI office in Kentville, and had just finished feeding Jax (it had been two hours, after all!).  I heard him poop and immediately smelled the stinky little bugger.  I needed to cover myself back up, so I handed him to Danny sitting in the front seat beside me.  Danny was burping him while I was putting away "the girls" when he lifted one hand up and said, "Oh my God, I think he pooped through his clothes."  I laughed a little bit, and then got ready to change him.  Of course we were on the side of the road in Kentville, so we had to change him on the back seat.  I laid him down on a blanket in the back seat and unbuttoned his clothes.  I took a little peek and discovered, to my horror, that this little poop explosion reached the back of his neck.  I took a step back to regroup and started gathering supplies.  Wipes.  Lots of them.  Extra shirt.  Clean diaper.  Somewhere to put the dirty wipes (we were going to be using a lot).  We stumbled here, but then realized empty Tim Horton cups would work just fine.  It started out being a calm task, then it seemed like the poop just got everywhere!  It was on his feet, his elbows, his stomach... and I didn't even have his clothes off yet (which of course, were also covered!).  I started the roll-and-tuck manouever with his onsie, trying to get it over his head without smearing the stuff any further.  It was not successful.  By the time I lifted his shirt over his head, he had poop in his hair, his shoulders, and all over my hands.  We stuffed two cups full of dirty wipes, which Danny dutifully held onto while I did the scrubbing.  It took what seemed like an eternity to finally get him cleaned off, and when I was finished and he was smelling sweet like roses again, I surveyed the damage.  We had used every single baby wipe in our bag to clean him off.  Not to mention we now had coffee cups filled to the brim with dirty wipes, and not a garbage can to be seen.  Oh, and I had poop all over my hands and up my arms... and no wipes.  Fantastic!  I found some poop bags that we use when walking Charlie and quickly tied up his soiled clothes and the coffee cups. Luckily, we also had Lysol wipes in the car.  While too strong for baby's bottom, they did wonders for me.  I stood on the sidewalk, cleaning myself off and happened to take a look around.  Right behind us, watching the whole scene was a nice elderly couple on their veranda.  And they were laughing.  Yeesh, they could have at least invited us in to use their sink!

The rest of Jax's first month has been (thankfully) fairly uneventful.  We are still adjusting to life, and hoping desperately that Jax soon finds a better sleep schedule.  I took a good two weeks to recover from the labour ordeal, and am starting to get back some of the energy I lost.  Jax has begun gracing us with those first real smiles, and they are adorable!  He's a little camera shy, and I have yet to catch one yet on the camera.  But I will!

Overall, I would call month one with the boy a success.  Although new "boy" things surprise me every day, I'm getting used to having the little man in the house.   Life is slowly returning to a new normal!