Dont be that Mom.

Dont be that mom. Just dont. Its hard to resist and I have forgotten and said something mindless...and I always regret it. JUST DONT BE THAT MOM.

We all know a mom like this. You know that one annoying mom who no matter what you say, her kid does it better, longer, and more amazingly then your kid. It doesnt matter what it is...The conversation goes something like this.

Me: Munchkin is going through the terrible twos. Its hell. Her tantrums are really tough.

Annoying Mom: Oh my kid is the worst. You dont know what tantrums are. You should see my kid.

Honestly, I want to turn to that mom and say, "Hey lady, this isnt a competition there is no award for whose kid is worse..... so calm down...no one is taking home any gold medals today!

But for annoying mom, it doesnt matter if the convo is positive or negative. All that matters is

Parenting is tough enough. Its hard being Mama 24/7. You doubt yourself so much. You question every minute detail and sometimes the only thing that saves you from jumping off the cliff is other moms. The ability to chat with other women who understand what we are going through, who make us feel normal about something small that has been torturing us.

Until annoying mom enters the scenario. I have watching that mom make people feel worse about themselves, Ive seen new moms eyes fill with a sheen of tears as annoying mom tells them about the wonderful nap schedule their 3 month old is on. Just as that new mom has finished saying her kid has absolutely no nap schedule and she is struggling to cop.

So dont be that mom.

Why do I keep saying that, because as sad as it is. Its easy to become that mom. We dont even know it when we cross over into being awful annoying mom. It happens so quickly and without THOUGHT.

It happened to me the other day. My older sis had a son right when I had cupcake. She was complaining about his sleep patterns and how much trouble she is having with him at night. And I decided (I have no clue why?) to tell her that Cupcake was sleeping 8 hrs at a stretch at night. I HATED MYSELF. As the words poured out of my mouth, I hated myself. But I couldnt stop it. And there I was annoying awful mom... Luckily my sister laughed and reminded me about my telling her about the concept of annoying awful mom. She actually told me to blog about it.

Just dont be that annoying mom. Guard against it. Fight it. The next time you feel the words bubbling up, squash them....

and if you meet an annoying mom, know she is lying. know that her child is not perfect, nor is he/she worse then your child, know that you are simply talking to another frightenned mom who copes by pretending.

Mama are you happy?

Munchkin asks me this a few times a day. My heart melts each time. Who else in the world is worried all day about my being happy. No one. Just my little munchkin. And I love her for it.

It's a daily reminder of why I am doing this. Why I agonize over the correct amount of fruits and veggies getting into Munchkins diet or if Cupcakes double chin is getting aired out so as to avoid infection. The minuetea of motherhood..the tiny details of a daily life that mean nothing individually...and sometimes drive you insane...

you wonder constantly why you worry, care so much, does any of it even matter, what difference does it make if munchkin isn't wearing a jacket on a slightly chilly days, if she wore her rain boots without socks. Does cupcake get enough attention from me, why isnt she rolling over yet...You wonder day in and day out if you are doing thing right, and you worry. Oh how you worry.

You want to care about none of it, to breeze through motherhood without any worries, confident in your every step as a mama. And in the grand scheme of things you know that all the tiny little things you cared so deeply about don't really matter. A pair of socks will not define my daughter. I know this. And yet. But the truth is you do care, it all matters to you. The worrying, the thinking, the teaching, the organizing is constant in the life of any mother. 

Sometimes I despair that I will ever have a moment again without worry or constant vigilance. And then munchkin asks me, Mama are you happy? And when I say Yes. The smile that comes to her face. It lights up the room. I realize in that moment that every second I have worried or cared has been worth it. The sum total of my worries have been my little girls entire world. She is happy and well adjusted because for now I can carry all her worries, have all the fears. For now, she can simply be happy and have only one worry. Is mama happy?

That in the grand scheme of things means I am doing something right. Amongst all the doubts, the sleepless nights,mother countless failed attempts at effective parenting...somewhere deep in there. I have done something right. Too bad, I'm not quite sure it is that I did do right. But it was something fundamental and important. So Alhm for that.

Count to 3.

I am waiting for the day Munchkin calls my bluff. Its going to happen, its just a matter of time.

When that happens, the power of 3 will be gone. Every parent knows what I am talking about.

Asking hasnt worked, all the negotiations are done, begging/pleading has failed, bribery resulted in nada...then you pull it out.

1, 2, 3.

I am going to count to 3. Before I get to three you better be marching upstairs/starting clean up/picking up the toy/whatever it is. It better happen before I get to 3. Otherwise....

In theory, this is a great plan. But it has a fatal flaw.

EVERY PARENT is deathly afraid of getting to 3. So we stall, this is how it goes in my house.

Munchkin I have asked you to pick up your clothes, you need to pick up your clothes, I am going to count to 3. You better start picking up your clothes before I get to three. And so I begin to count,

1 (Munchkin shows no signs of moving)

2 (Munchkin shows absolutely zero signs of moving, she actually has sunk further into the sofa)

now the fear sets in, what if I get to 3. So I stall, Ok Munchkin you really dont want me to get to 3. So you better do what I am asking you to do.

And I start again (see the delay tactic!)

1 (Munchkin shows no signs of moving)

2 (Munchkin shows absolutely zero signs of moving)

GODDAMNIT why does this kid always have to be so defiant. Why cant it just be easy to get her to pick up the damn toy. Of course at this point, I couldnt care less if Munchkin picks up the toy or not. I actually dont care if the toy sits there forever. But now the 1,2,3 dance has begun and I cant back down. So, time to reset again. Munchkin, dont test my patience. If I get to 3 you will be in alot of trouble.

1 (Please God, I beg you. MAKE THIS KID MOVE)

2 (Was that a movement? Was that a flutter of movement. PLEASE let it be..)

Munchkin gets up.

THANK YOU GOD! THANK YOU!

Once again, the power of 1, 2, 3 has been preserved, to be used another day.

Forever changed.

Kids should come with a warning label. It should read.

- I will change your life. Forever. Nothing can be the same again. -

Yes. its wonderful. Yes. its the best thing that happened to me. Having munchkin and cupcake changed my life in all the most perfect ways.

But.

It also made my life so much more difficult. Not to say I am not rewarded dearly for those difficulties..but there are irrevocable changes that happened when I became their mama.

I stopped sleeping. The last time I slept a solid night was probably around the four/five month mark in my first pregnancy. Now, like all mothers, I sleep in bursts. And even when I sleep I feel like one ear is trained on the baby monitor while the other is listening for sounds of distress from my munchkins room. Ive woken up countless nights to the feeling of a warm hand petting my face and these beady little eyes staring at me as I open my sleep drenched eyes. ITS CREEPY! So very creepy.. I wake up before cupcake starts to cry on the monitor....just her breathing can change and I wake up. That cant be good for my sleep....

I miss that sleep. You know the one I am talking about. When nothing could disturb you, when you slept like the dead. This deep never-ending sweet sleep. Or better yet. Sleeping in... that was awesome. To wake up at 1 pm on a Saturday and not even feel guilty.

Now its all gone. And the saddest part is. I dont want it back. If I had to trade my girls for sleep I would never do it. Never. So good bye sleep. But oh how I will miss it over the next few years.

I stopped having 'me' time. Even the bathroom is a shared communal experience where Munchkin performs elaborate dances as I attempt to pee. I've lost count of the number of showers I have abruptly ended because I thought I heard one of the kids crying. I dont read blogs about art, literature, or current events. I read blogs about parenting, what I am doing wrong and how to fix my parenting skills. I spend my time on pinterest looking up arts and crafts projects for the kiddos, foods that they will like to eat, or how to decorate girls rooms. I plan my calender around munchkins kindergym and school schedule, or cupcakes doctors appointments.

I remember Saturdays spent waking up in the middle of the afternoon, getting dressed and walking lazily around downtown Toronto, while drifting into a quaint restuarant for a late lunch. I would be lying if I said I dont miss that. I miss the 'me' time. I think I miss this most of all.

I miss not being Mama 24/7. all day. everyday.

But then for one harrowing second I think what it would be like to not be mama for a moment and I stop cold. My heart stops, my eyes fill with tears, my hands reach for the warm feel of my dauthers. Because. I am forever changed. My life changed on August 12, 2010 at 7:21 pm. Forever.

I became Mama. Everything changed. Forever. and I am eternally grateful for it.

sleep.

We are sleep training Munchkin again. I can just hear my older sis say How many times are you going to sleep train her! I have the worlds most stubborn child in the universe, put on this earth to TORTURE me with her sleep routine. Its like she knows, this thing will kill mama. Its the last thing she has to get through before she can have her evening cup of chai. So I will make sure to drag it out for as long as possible.

For anyone who has a trouble sleeper. I FEEL YOUR PAIN. Sometimes I listen to other parents talk about 10 min bedtime routines where they read two books with their kids, tuck them in, tell them dont let the bed bugs bite. AND THATS IT. Their goddamn kid just goes off to sleep. I stare at those parents most time, and Im not going to lie, I HATE them. From some deep dark black hole, I hate them. I want to ask them how did you manage to get your kid to sleep without death threats, a song and dance routine, the reading of a bazillion books.... I just want to ask what I am doing wrong. Why my bedtime routine includes all of the above and stretches over an hr and half. But because I know the answers will make me want to commit murder, I shut up when  I talk to those parents. Often I mumble some awesome lie about how much Munchkin and I enjoy our time together in her room late at night....

But here I can be honest and I can say what I actually feel. I HATE BEDTIME! Im not that mom, you know the one who can dedicate herself to the time her kid requires to sleep. To make it her mission to calmly put her kid to sleep. At 8 pm, I am done being mama. I want munchkin and cupcake to go to sleep. Like a light switch, one second up, the next second sound asleep.

Who wants to read Llama, Llama and Good Night, Moon for the 800th time, not me.

Who wants to fight over which PJs to wear every single damn night, not me.

Who wants to argue with Munchkin about why she cant go to sleep with an orange at night. Yes, you read that right. AN ORANGE. This is my daughters latest obsession. Sleeping with an orange. I guess I should be thankful that she has gotten over the need to hug her slippers to sleep. So who wants to have this argument, not me.

Who wants to spend 23 mins a night finding whatever arcane, completely irrelevant and useless item that my child has deemed the most necessary for her ability to fall asleep. And of course, i dont have that kid who can be coddled with some other item. Nope, I have the kid who makes everything epic. If she wants the blue lipstick, well then you better find the blue lipstick. Because my kid does not want the red, purple, yello, green lipstick. No she wants the blue one. and thats that. She wants to torture me. So who wants to find it, not me.

Who wants to remind their kids a 100 times how much they will miss this sleep when they grow up? not me.

But I do it all, I read the books, repeatedly, I have the PJ fight which I always lose, I remove the orange, find the damn blue lipstick. I do it all in the hopes that perhaps maybe...just this once...she will drift into sleep without my going insane. But alas, its never the case. NEVER.

You would think I would learn right. But no. Every night I fall for Munchkins sleep acting. She is such a professional, with the yawning, the I am so tired mama, my eyes are not staying open. The hugging her toy tight, the deep breathing...not moving from her position...all of it an act...to lull me into complacency.

So as the clock ticks to ten mins of all this acting, I begin to hope, could it be, could it actually be that Munchkin allowed herself to sleep. So I slowly begin to test my theory, I throw the covers on her, and she doesnt push them off. Ok, time for me to move. I slowly, ever so slowly start to creep off her bed. Then I gingerly make my way across the floor of her room. And all parents who have those damn difficult sleeper knows, like I do, exactly where your foot needs to go each step of the way so you dont step on any creaky boards... the whole process of leaving takes 7 mins.... and just as you think you are victorious. Just as you can taste the chai in your mouth...and you are swinging the door slightly shut as you exit...you hear it..

"Mama where are you going?"

you realize it was an act, so back to square one you go. Walking back defeated you sit down again on the bed to wait. To wait agonizingly for those small little tiny sleepy eyes to flutter shut.

OMG how I hate bedtime.

Play Dough Integrity

Everyone has habits. Idiosyncrasies that develop over time. Just the way things are done according to you. You really dont know you have these habits really....until...you become a parent. And then every single one of your habits, idiosyncrasies becomes glaringly obvious. Something will happen, your kids will do or say something and you see it. you never noticed it before, but then BANG there it is. In glaring neon lights.

For me, its the way you play with play dough. YOU DONT MIX THE COLORS! Its so simple. The red playdough goes in the red playdough jar, the green in the green jar, the purple in the purple and so on and so forth. You play gently with small amounts from the jars, making adorable little shapes, fruits, trays..... an array of colors perfectly crafted to show creativity and an afternoon well spent as mama and munchkin time. Or so I imagined it would be as I stood in Walmart convincing myself to buy the set of 12 playdough jars for $8.49 when I could easily get the four small jars of basic colors from the dollarstore. This one had more colors, it would give Munchkin options. The wonders we would create together with all those colors... or so I told myself as I envisioned the perfect adult use of play dough.

The thing I forgot to consider as I placed the $8.49 tray of playdough in my cart was this...Munchkin is 2 1/2, she isnt interested in my ideas of how to play with the playdough. No siree. This kiddo has tons of ideas for the playdough. And none of them involved not mixing the playdough. In fact, Munchkin took the most pleasure in stacking small pancakes of different colors and using a small rolling pin to make a large multi colored pancake.

"look what I made for you Mama, PANCAKE!"

I tried showing her, tried explaining to her, tried getting upset, tried making rules about no mixing colors. I tried so hard. So very hard to save my colors and all the creativity that was to be inspired from the purity of the playdough colors. But she mixed and mixed the play dough.....pancake after pancake was created.

and now..

we have twelve perfect small jars of this gray/blue mish mashed colored play dough..... It broke my heart. Because of course, for me these jars were now useless,,,,,how could we make bananas when the yellow was more puke colored, how could we created watermelons when the red was actually black.....I didnt even realize it mattered to me, this no mixing of the playdough, until I watched munchkin press together with her hands a small ball of white and purple playdough. The glaring neon lights went off.

but for the Munchkin, it didnt matter that the colors were all messed up. She still loves playing with the twelve jars of grey/blue playdough and making those bananas and watermelons. The issues with the playdough were mine. Not hers.

I had missed the point. I was so busy maintaining the integrity of the playdough colors that I forgot to enjoy playing with my girl. I missed the main point of the playdough. It was to have fun, to enjoy the play dough however she wanted to. To give her the tools to be creative and to sit back and let that creativity take place. So goddamn hard for a control freak like myself. So damn hard.

So today, Munchkin and I spent a good part of the afternoon making grey/blue bananas and watermelons, cherries, sandwiches and so many other shapes and things. It was fun. We had fun. and honestly it was the first time I walked away from playdough having had fun and without getting upset at the Munchkin.

Of course, in true Munchkin fashion just as I was accepting the grey blue playdough, she turned and says Mama dont mix the colours. No mix playdough. Didnt know quite how to tell her that she missed the boat on the playdough color purity.

Cupcake makes me smile

Cupcake somehow knew I needed her today. She helped me remember why I did this. Why I gave up my body, sleep, my life as me to be mama. she coo'ed and smiled my thoughts away. Exactly what I needed. I was sad over something I should never have been sad for. I was upset that I was sad and didn't know how to cope with those feelings. Cupcakes smiles and animated conversations reminded me not to be sad. To be grateful. To be so very grateful that she is here today. My miracle baby. Three heart wrenching miscarriages later, I have this perfect little girl

Reminded of all I have and so thankful. 

I know it will all pass in an instant. I will blink and my girls will be all grown up. But right now, it feels like that moment is so far away. My girls consume my days, nights, and all the times in between. I stand in the shower an extra two mins so no one will disturb me, so I won't be mama for just that small window of time.

And then I make a cup of chai. And I worry as I sit there sipping my chai, that I will forget these moments, that when they grow up ill wonder about how my girls were as toddlers. That I will not recall the week Munchkin asked me everyone's last name. Or how she climbed on top of Cupcake to give her the pacifier. These  moments whose sum total are my days and nights will slip slowly from my memory.

I know these times are important. I know it and yet. I feel like I am barely coping. That I get through my days and when I sit down with chai I don't reflect on the day and all my girls wins and losses, or the cute moment that happened that day,rather I am just happy to have made it to that cup of chai, both girls safe in their beds and my sanity still intact.