Tag Archives: children


Today was bananas.

I awoke at 5:30am to calls (read shouts) beconing me.  More leg pain from growing pains.  Medicine administered with a silent prayer (to a God that I may or may not believe in, but was really hoping for this morning) that both kids now awake from the yelling, would silently retreat back to slumberland.

No God today. (Maybe sleeping?)

So up we got. And my son immediately pointed to his mouth.  He gets sign language. In that way that a terrorist gets a bomb: Point to trigger, deploy device and BAM! The pointing to the mouth indicates hunger. IMMEDIATE. LIFE THREATENING HUNGER. Once the finger points I have .2 seconds to disarm the device or BAM.

Bananas work well for this.

Only today, it wasn’t just one, but two hairpin trigger devices I was working against.  (Usually it’s just the one…the other one has somehow had a patience delay for the last year or so.) But not this morning.

Thank god for bananas.

Or so I thought. (Remember the god part earlier…) She didn’t want HER banana, she wanted HIS banana.  This is the red wire/ green wire situation where no matter how much training you have you just don’t know which to cut.  Do I take his away? Try for a swap? Maybe he won’t notice half go missing?  I went with the half theory, successfully.  Only then the demander had raised the stakes.

“NO, not his half banana, I want my own banana!!”

In the background, mentally I start to go bananas.

I pass her a whole one back.  Fingers, toes and eyes crossed that this last attempt will work.

And it did.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Go bananas!


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Somedays I am a rockstar.  I feel like I should have a fan club of adoring people who love ME.

Today was NOT one of those days.

Somedays I feel like I should share my genetics with the world.  Because they are just THAT good.  You know, when your kids are rockstars and everyone wants their kids to be just like yours…

Today was also NOT one of those days.

Today was the kind of day where I wish I could feign illness at work half way through the day.  I would have faked a fever for today.  Or made myself vomit all over the floor, just for quarantine alone time in my room.  But nobody was here but me.  Me and the screamers.  No point in naming them.  Hushing and loving and hugging didn’t change them.  Yelling and time outs didn’t fix them.  They just wanted to be next to me.  And scream.  For hours.  Not consecutively though.  It was intermittent screaming for hours today.  Between the diaper rash and the meltdowns due to lack of sleep, lack of timely food, lack of nap, and lack of motherly patience after hour 4, I wanted to escape.

The diaper rash, despite changing immediately after the “grunting face” worsened through the day.  Up to the point that thing 1 was in her room screaming (time out for screaming).  At that point thing 2 was mid diaper change when the legs started flailing and the poop started flying.  Okay not so much flying as: all over mom and the diaper, and the clean up cloth trying to contain said mess.  And more screaming.  So into the tub.  Followed by thing one emerging from the bedroom. And more screaming.

And dinner.  The wrong type apparently. More screaming.

And Mom eating dinner, without Dad.  More screaming.

And baby playing with dinosaurs. More screaming.

More screaming.

More screaming.

More screaming.

The windows in my house were closed today.  Despite HOT temperatures.  Sweltering heat which I’m sure resulted in…you guessed it. More screaming.

At least the neighbours only got a muffled version of what sounded like me murdering my small children.  Slowly.  With dull spoons.

That is all.  There is no happy ending to this story.  Unless you count bedtime.  Shortly after hubby got home at 7:45pm.

Some days suck.  Even for rockstars.  And I am a rockstar.  Minus the drug and alcohol problems.

Tomorrow will be a rockstar day. (Minus the drug and alcohol problems.)

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Happy Day.

Today was a good day.  A happy day.  Or maybe it was just an average day on account of all things in comparison to yesterday.   Oh yesterday where I feel like I lost my mind with my three year old intentionally pissing on the newly cleaned floor (3.5 hours after the cleaners had left) for the second time.  There were three “accidents” yesterday.  I sometimes wonder if these accidents aren’t the world’s way of “pop quizzing” us parents to see how far we’ve come with our own control of emotions (or not) and how much we’ve learned in parenting (or not) and which new tools we’ve developed (if any.)  Today was happy.

Maybe it is in light of the recent 3 broad-daylight steal-the-3-year-old-from-his-family kidnapping attempts in the last 24 hours.  I am cherishing my children and holding them extra tight today.

I even tried to impose some education on the eldest of my troop.  The conversation went something like this:

Mommy “Pippi what would you do if a stranger told you to go with them?”

Pippi “Nope.  Not unless they were nice mommy.”

Mommy *sigh* “Okay if anyone EVER tells you to go with them other then Mommy or Daddy you come to us quick so you can ask if it’s okay.”

Pippi “But why Mommy?”

Mommy “Well sometimes they aren’t nice people, and only Mommy and Daddy can tell if they are okay for you to go with.

Pippi “Oh but I know who is nice Mommy.”

Mommy “hmmm.  You have to ask ask before you go with anybody okay.  Always have to come to Mommy and Daddy to ask before going with anyone right?”

Pippi “Yup.  But it’s okay if I go with Susan (neighbour) She’s nice!”

Mommy “No, that isn’t okay.  You always have to ask first, so we know where you are.”

Pippi “Okay.  But Susan is nice.”

Mommy frowning in exasperation

“Okay, so what would you do if somebody told you to come with them in their car?”

Pippi “No way! *big grin* I’d never get in their car.  That’s just silly.  Only if they had a carseat Mommy.  It’s not safe for me in a car without a carseat.”

Mommy (beginning to realize this concept might be out of Pippi’s developmental grasp for the time being) “No honey don’t ever get in a car with anybody either.  Only with Mommy or Daddy okay?”

Pippi “Okay Mommy. But if they have a carseat I’d be safe.  Then if they get in a crash and ask where I am I can say: I am here, safe in my carseat!”

Mommy “No, not even if they have a carseat.  Or if they offer you candy.  You always only get in a car with Mom or Dad okay?”

Pippi “Okay Mommy.  But that’s silly.  Candy is for Halloween, and birthdays only.”

Sigh.  Will keep a close watch on my kids.  And hug them extra tight tonight.  Their cuteness and naivety are only a few of the million reasons they are so special to me.

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The happy gloriousness of children, according to my cousin.

So every year around the holiday, ever since my daughter was born, I have this cousin who comes over to me and says “Wow, aren’t they great? Kids? The BEST!  Don’t they just make life worth living? Doesn’t it feel like your life has so much more meaning and purpose.  And how magical is it being a parent?  Betcha never thought it would feel this good hey?  And can’t imagine what your life was even like before having them!”

I force a smile and nod.  My cousin moves on and my thoughts begin to spiral.  Of course I remember what my life was like before kids.  My husband and I had a standing date night at a sushi restaurant which included wine every Tuesday night.  I slept in on weekends while my husband got to catch up on MIT physics lectures (his weird hobby/interest).  I got to go shopping in New York and buy clothes, we took great vacations.  I went for runs with our golden retriever Haley.  There was even a time when Jack and I would get up early and watch the sunrise on runs before work (we lived in Bermuda at the time, the sun rose up over the most perfect aqua blue ocean and our run route was on the south shore where we would overlook the sea from cliffs above.) Yes. That good.

This year when my cousin started up the yearly conversation with something to the effect of “what a blessing, how life changingly amazing children are…” I actually tried something new.  I was completely brutally honest.

“I’m exhausted. Most. of. the. time. My daughter gets up at 6am everyday.  I still get up at night to nurse my son. I can’t remember the last time I slept through a full night.  I’m really not sure I’d do it again.  I say that now that I’m in the thick of things.  I really really really love them. And yes they have changed my life.  But they’ve also infringed upon everything I ever I thought was important to me.  My yoga, my nightlife, my sex life.  Things I never even thought would be affected.  Like daily showers. Or brushing my hair, or teeth.  Yes somedays it is that bad.  Not everyday.  But it’s really really hard.  More than I ever thought.  I feel like there is none of me left in my life.”  My cousin was shocked.  Then other family (mostly moms) also joined in.  How hard it really is.  That nobody really talks about fighting back tears when all your kids are chorusing their screaming together.  The days when the old you has been shoved so far back you never feel like she will re-emerge.

The little voices in my head start up again “You will NEVER get your life back. By the time the kids are old enough to be independent your sense of self will be long gone.  You will be a stranger to yourself, with no current interests, hobbies, friends or life.”  Oh the voices.  So I pack my shit up, and head to the gym.  The kids get dumped at childcare there and I work my ass off for an hour. (Literally, I lost my ass…there is a vast flat area where my ass used to be.  The kids; or pregnanies rather, took that away too.) I get to shower and sauna and get the voices to shut up.  See I did something for myself.  Don’t think I’ll be back again tomorrow.  Five days in a row is enough.  Actually the truth is I don’t think my body can take another day of it.  My levels of lactic acid must be so high they are toxic.   Maybe the toxicity will kill off the voices.  I smile.

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