The thing about newborns…

I have a confession to make. Newborn babies scare me. Before having a child of my own, I was always the girl at the office who didn’t want to hold her colleague’s new baby when she’d bravely make her first trip out to introduce the baby. I used to make jokes about how it was bad for my biological clock to hold babies and add that holding a newborn would likely send me straight on maternity leave. But really, I was just terrified of holding and possibly breaking such a fragile little life.

My husband is quite the opposite and regularly holds tiny babies with natural ease, as they snuggle down comfortably in his large embrace. Before we had our own child I marvelled at his natural ability with babies.

Having my own newborn did not prove any better for me. As the mother of a colicky, fussy newborn, I sometimes swaddled and rocked my baby so hard I was sure I would give him whiplash. When the only thing that would silence his perpetual crying proved to be standing for hours with him under the noisy kitchen fan, I was sure I would damage his hearing permanently. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why he’s so loud to this day…

Anyway, my first few months as a mother were rough. Very rough. I was not a natural at motherhood. By the time we hit the three month mark I finally got my groove with him and only then did I start to feel a little confident. By then we were out of the scariest phase and my son had stopped crying so damn much all the time.

When my nephew was born two months ago, I was sure that as an experienced mother I would no longer have a phobia of holding newborns. I was wrong. It turns out I’m only really comfortable holding a newborn that belongs to me. And really, who are we kidding – even that’s a stretch.

I had all the best intentions of going over to visit and holding the baby for my sister-in-law while she took a nap or a shower. Nephew and I were going to bond from the beginning. I was gonna be the best aunt ever! As fate would have it, an extremely busy work and family schedule kept me from visiting as often as I would have liked. And anytime I would visit, I was usually accompanied by my overly excited two-year-old and I spent most of the time keeping my son from pawing at his baby cousin and repeatedly yelling “Gentle! GENTLE!!!”

So in the end, I didn’t get to spend much time overcoming my fear of newborns with my nephew and every time I would hold him, I’d be sweating so much I was afraid he’d slip out of my arms. Fortunately, my dear husband always seemed to swoop in just as Nephew would start to wail uncomfortably and cradle him in that big comfy embrace of his. Phew! Saved again.

Now that he’s a solid little two-and-a-half month old, I’m feeling much better about holding my nephew for awhile so his mom can eat dinner. Even if it means constantly elbowing away my eager son from his baby cousin. At least now I know I won’t break my nephew!

When is it time to step out of the comfort zone?

As my son is now two years old, I am really finally starting to feel settled and comfortable in my role as a mother. You know how when you first have a baby, everyone tells you that it will get easier? I’m pleased to report that it’s true. Don’t get me wrong, every day brings new challenges, but I’m much more laid back than I was a year ago.

My son is speaking better every day so we can actually communicate effectively. He eats the same meals that we do (mostly). He actually sleeps through the night now (hallelujah)! When we go out, we no longer need to pack a huge diaper bag with every possible thing we may need to tend to him for an hour. Okay, so he’s not potty trained but I’m optimistic that it will happen soon. In other words, things have truly gotten easier for us. We have left the baby years behind and now we’re fully entrenched in the wild and wonderful toddler years.

The thing that never ceases to amaze me is that I really feel like I love my son more every day. How is that possible? When he was a baby I adored him, but I think I was too stressed out to enjoy him. As a new mom, I was just overwhelmed. Now that he’s a little person, talking and doing things by himself and being a funny little character, I just can’t help but feel all mushy inside when I look at him. Yes, there are still plenty of times when he frustrates me to no end, but it feels different now.

So now that we’ve reached this comfort zone, I know that it’s time to expand the family but sometimes the thought of going through the baby years all over again just makes me want to run away screaming. My son was a good baby, but he was very active and busy and had no interest in sleeping. He was what the parenting books call “spirited.” To be fair, I always said that I wanted my child to be full of spunk - or as we like to say full of “piss and vinegar.” Well, I got what I wished for. But I don’t think that I would wish for that a second time.

Am I ready to wake up at all hours of the night, struggle through breastfeeding and changing 12 diapers a day? Am I ready to hear that shrill newborn cry that wakes a mother from the deepest of sleeps? Am I ready to wear my hair in a ponytail for a year because my baby keeps pulling it? Am I ready to struggle with understanding what it is that my non-verbal baby wants from me? Better yet, am I ready to have to give my attention to more than one child? To deal with sibling rivalry or the jealousy that a newcomer to the family brings?

I guess I’m looking at all the negatives, because obviously the positives are wonderful and well worth the effort. I know that now that I have been through it once. I only hope that my experience so far has taught me better ways to deal with parenting a second child. And I hope that my next is not full of piss and vinegar, but is an angelic, sleepy and good-natured child.

So to all those of you who are asking if we plan to have another child, the answer is yes. Hopefully we will expand our family, if all goes the way it should. Don’t read too much into this post, I am not pregnant. But as I look at my fellow mothers around me, whose first born children are about the same age as mine and are now pregnant with their second, I am starting to feel okay with the idea of going through it all over again. We’ve reached a great comfortable place with our son…but I guess we shouldn’t get too comfortable here; otherwise he’ll never have a sibling!

You know you have a two-year-old son when…

As a kid, I was a girly-girl. I loved Barbies, Cabbage Patch Kids, Strawberry Shortcake, Care Bears and My Little Ponies. I did not like sports. Or any physical activity, really. I would play in my pink bedroom and pretend to be a mother, or draw pictures of princesses or imagine myself in a glamorous career, like becoming a fashion designer.

I’m still a bit of a girly-girl to this day, although I have since dropped the Barbies and I never really pursued my dream of being a fashion designer. And despite loving dressing in my mother’s high heels as a kid, I have a secret hatred of heels now (but it doesn’t stop me from wearing them).

So needless to say, when I found out that I was pregnant with a boy, I was a little concerned about raising a son and all the “boy stuff” that comes with it. I couldn’t help but think, ugh, this means a lifetime of hockey and Transformers, and playing with trucks and dirt and other yucky stuff. I was a bit disappointed that shopping for clothes would be more boring and that I would be missing out on the fun of having a little girly-girl of my own.

I got over those initial, admittedly shallow, thoughts pretty quickly. Everyone reassured me that boys are wonderful because they love their mommies and that while boys can be a handful as children they are way easier as teenagers. Yes, yes, I know they just were trying to make me feel better, but it worked.

Lately I came to realize, all that “boy stuff” is starting to grow on me… Here are a few signs that you know you have a two-year-old son:

- You get excited when you see a school bus or any kind of truck on the road…the holy grail of these sightings is the elusive fire truck, which does not make an appearance that often. Bonus points if its sirens are wailing. Double bonus points (for mommy) if the firemen are cute. Deduct points if you’re driving and you see a school bus and want to point it out to someone…but you’re alone in the car.

- When you get into your car and start the engine, the radio is usually blaring the Raffi CD your son insisted on making you play (that’s code for whined until you gave in).

- You eagerly plan a weekend getaway 3 months from now to a tiny town in the middle of nowhere 4 hours away because you know that Thomas the Tank Engine will be making an appearance there. Okay, maybe because there are outlet malls nearby as well.

- The theme song to Handy Manny plays in your head, night and day.

- You have matchbox cars in the bottom of your purse at any given time.

- You consider the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser to be the greatest invention of all time.

- You have perfected the art of imitating all animals that roar, like lions, tigers and bears (oh my!) Also in my son’s case, sharks. Because he thinks they roar.

- You chuckle along with your son’s burgeoning sense of toilet humour when he laughs after letting out a burp and announcing it to you.

- You no longer sigh longingly at all the adorable dresses and cute girl clothes in kids’ stores. Okay, maybe just for a second. Fortunately I have several nieces to buy presents for.

Yeah, maybe having a boy is not such a gross, snot-filled adventure after all…. And my son has let me release my inner tomboy in ways I never knew existed. Wouldn’t you know, I kinda like that inner tomboy!

Separation Anxiety

As I write this, I’m sitting in my hotel room in one of the most beautiful and scenic places I’ve ever been, Lake Louise in Alberta. Surrounded by the beautiful Rocky Mountains, fresh clean air and yes, I’m gloriously alone. You would think that this mother of a vivacious two-year-old boy would welcome the time away from home, the opportunity to sleep through the night uninterrupted and to have some precious alone time in a beautiful location (albeit while travelling for business). But all I feel is a little pang of sadness in my chest. I miss my son.

I’m not worried about him and I’m not stressed about how my husband is managing at home.  Of course all that is totally fine. When my husband has travelled on business, I was just fine too. Considering that I don’t get a moment alone at home, that I can’t even go to the bathroom without an audience, you would think that I would relish this time away.

But I miss my son’s laugh, his hugs and kisses, his funny little sayings and actions. I am seeing other toddlers with their parents and the things they are saying and doing remind me of my little guy. Although I have loved my son since the day he was born, I sometimes feel like I love him a little more every day. Except during those moments where he makes me want to scream and put him into a straight-jacket or cover his mouth with duct tape. Which happens pretty often. But the rest of the time, as he grows from the baby that he was into a little person, he makes me laugh and it fills my chest with sparkling champagne bubbles of joy.  

My husband and I decided to organize a last-minute weekend getaway to New York City next weekend and some people have asked us if we are leaving our son at home (not alone, obviously!) But we are not ready to go away without him. Yes, he drives us crazy sometimes, and let’s face it, a six-hour car ride with a two-year old does not promise to be much fun. But we don’t want a getaway from him; we want a getaway with him.  We spend enough time apart during the week when we are a

t work and he’s at daycare.

The hardest part of this week’s travel away from home was being on a four and a half hour flight and not being able to communicate with my husband or talk to my son. As the plane landed, I was like a junkie who needed a fix as I dialled home. Just in time, too, as my little guy was just about to go to bed.

While I’ve left him overnight, I don’t think I’ve ever been further away alone than a two-hour drive from home since he was born, so I guess this is a milestone I have to get through. But when I get home Sunday morning, you can bet that I will be happy to see that little guy again!

The magic of stickers

I know, I know, I have been blogging a lot less lately and I keep having inspired ideas about what to write about…and then I forget them. So I apologize for slacking on the blogging lately but life is busy!

I’ve come to a new realization about parenting toddlers…. Having a baby is physically exhausting – you spend a lot of time carrying them around, lifting them in and out of their cribs, and if your child is anything like me, you have many sleepless nights. But having a two-year-old is mentally exhausting – they may be more physically independent but their burgeoning language, social and motor skills require you to always be “on.”

When my son was a baby, when my brain was tired I could tune him out…plop him in his high chair with some Cheerios or set him up with some toys and just ignore him for awhile. Now I’m sleeping better (hurray!) and I spend far less time carrying him and attending to his physical needs – but I am constantly in behaviour modification mode. We talk and chatter, he tries daring new things like flushing the toilet or reaching into the cutlery drawer to find himself a knife, I have to reward his good behaviour and manage his not-so-good behaviour. Ignoring him and tuning him out is simply not an option. Because if he’s being quiet, you can bet he’s up to no good. It’s freaking exhausting!

In an effort to try and understand the psyche of a two-year-old and see how I could best navigate this golden age, I read the book by Dr. Harvey Karp “The Happiest Toddler on the Block.” I must say that Dr. Karp provides some very interesting ideas. They’re far from revolutionary and definitely nothing new, but it’s nice to have a summary of ideas for communicating with a toddler, managing tantrums and encouraging good behaviour. And since implementing some of these ideas, I have to say – they work!

One of the tried and true methods I decided to implement this week is the infamous sticker chart. The idea is that you want to encourage and reward existing good behaviours and teach new ones. One thing that we have been trying to teach my son is to clean up after himself, especially following a throw-everything-on-the-floor rampage. Those little scenes had been happening more than I care to admit recently and both my husband and I agreed that it was time to get him to clean up his act.

So taking a cue from Dr. Karp, I purchased a whole whack of stickers, drew up a chart with three behaviours that I want to encourage – two of which my son already does fairly well, but that I want to continue to encourage and one new one. The three things are hand washing, tooth-brushing and cleaning up. So since Monday, every morning before we leave for daycare, I tell my son it’s time to do our “sticker stuff.” We go wash his hands, brush his teeth, and then clean up whatever mess he has made in the two hours he’s been awake. Let me tell you, this thing works like a charm!

I will admit that the first two days, he was not interested in cleaning up but with repeated promises of stickers, he grudgingly did it. After seeing his accumulated stickers posted on the chart on the fridge, he started getting really excited. Now he loves sticker time! Heck, we’ve even thrown in a bonus sticker for when we want him to do something else, like finish his dinner.

What a cheap and easy way to motivate good behaviour! Obviously, I’m far from the first to do this and it’s not revolutionary by any stretch. But I’m pretty amazed that it actually works. At first my husband was worried about this being too close to bribery. But I don’t see it that way. It’s motivational – aren’t we motivated by incentives after all? Points and loyalty programs, bonuses at work…you get the picture. I don’t think giving stickers for good behaviour are going to spoil my child. Especially if you consider that we had started to go down the old “if you stop crying, I’ll give you chocolate” route! Now that is bribery.

So to come back to my original point, things are just busy around our house these days because we are always in teaching mode. It’s hard but at this stage of life we just can’t let our guard down if we want to teach our child to behave well. There is so much more that we have to do on a regular basis than just giving stickers, but this small win has made me feel like this week, I’m doing something right.

…ask me how I feel next week!

What are some of the methods you use to encourage good behaviour with your children?

Leaving a legacy

A week ago, I became an aunt for the first time as my brother and sister-in-law welcomed their first child into the world. On the same day, my grandmother was admitted to the hospital and our family learned that she would not be coming home. A week later, she passed away, surrounded by her children in palliative care.

It seems almost fitting and seems to happen often that when someone enters the world, another person leaves it. As the expression goes, when God closes a door, he opens a window.  I know that my brother is very sad to have never had the opportunity to introduce his newborn son to his great-grandmother. But he paid her the greatest tribute by keeping our family name alive, as the only grandchild who was in a position to do so.

If my grandmother taught us one thing about life, it’s the importance of family.  Absolutely nothing was more important to her than her family – and she had quite a big family.

Source: treat.com via Jennifer on Pinterest

           

She came from a family of six children, who as young adults, left their parents behind and immigrated to Canada from Greece in the early 1960’s. Her sister came first with her husband and slowly the others all followed suit with their families.

As immigrants in a new land who didn’t speak the language and who had to work around the clock in factories and kitchens to make ends meet, their objective was to create a better life for their children and families. As a new Canadian, my grandmother was poor but she was proud. She and my grandfather only wanted the best for their children, and over time, they achieved it.

When my grandmother passed away, she left behind five grandchildren and five great-grandchildren (and one on the way). She was so proud of her great-grandchildren, the oldest of which is my son at two years old. She would proudly tell people in her heavily accented English: “Me grandmother two times!”

To her, there was no greater accomplishment in life than to have children. From the time my husband and I got married seven years ago, she began to harass me to get pregnant. She didn’t understand that we were still young and that we weren’t ready to be tied to the responsibility of being parents. She didn’t understand that my husband had gone back to school and that for us it was not the right time. In her view, there was no more important job for us to do. Yes, she was proud that we were well-educated and had good careers. But in her view, life is not complete without children.

When my son was born, she was bursting with pride. In her view, I had finally begun to achieve my life’s purpose. Except that by that point, she had begun to suffer from a mild dementia. So she very freely told everyone exactly what she was thinking, over and over again. And she informed me that while it was wonderful that I had a son, it was now time to have a daughter.

A daughter, she told me, will take care of you. A daughter will be close to her mother. A daughter can do for a mother what a son never can. All I could do was laugh, because obviously it’s not the kind of thing that I can control. And while I hope that I am one day blessed with a daughter, I am happy that I was able to give her a great-grandchild.

As I saw my grandmother live her last few days of life, I finally understood while she felt it was so important to have children. She did not go alone. At every moment in the last week of her life, she had someone beside her. Someone who loved and cared for her, who cried for her and smiled as they reminisced about her life. She left her mark on the world, in the form of two children, five grandchildren and five (soon to be six) great-grandchildren. She has left a legacy.

While I know it’s not in everyone’s destiny to have children of their own, whether by choice or not, I am happy that I have become a mother. I am happy to be surrounded by a loving family of my own. My grandmother’s lesson is one which is close to my heart; because I too believe that the most important thing in life is family.

A Modern Mom’s Guide to Birthday Parties

Source: partymart.com via Erica on Pinterest

When I was a kid, my parents used to host our birthday parties the way everyone else did: cram 30 of your closest friends and relatives into your home and feed them pizza and cheezies and homemade birthday cake. Then proceed to try and corral a bunch of sugar-high unruly children into playing games like Pin the Tail on the Donkey and some game my mom probably made up which involved holding a coin between your knees and seeing if you could walk five feet to drop it into an old pickle jar. Of course, when I was a kid, this was the epitome of awesome and most likely created a huge amount of stress for my parents.

Last year for my son’s first birthday party, we had a party at home with all the relatives who had an interest in attending. My husband and I cooked up a storm and stressed out as we planned the whole shindig, which we hosted at my parents’ house because our house is too small to host 35 people in February. It lasted for hours as everyone lingered and chatted and ate and hung out. It was great because that’s what you do for a first birthday party. Plus, I was just coming off a year of maternity leave and I was desperate to manage some kind of project to stimulate my brain. The party planning was the perfect integration for my brain to ease back into the working world.

Fast-forward one year. After spending months trying to keep my life balanced, my kitchen floor (relatively) clean and the clutter of toys in my basement under a semblance of control, I decided it was time for a new approach. This year, there was no way that I was going to cook and clean and have tons of people in my home to celebrate my son’s birthday. Not on top of trying to maintain work-life balance!

After an afternoon of research into local options, I found an awesome venue (Ethan’s Playground) which would have enough space for a whole whack of adults and lots of great stuff for toddlers to play with. They provide everything but the food and take care of mom and dad like royalty. I scheduled the party nice and early on a Saturday morning, so the whole thing would be over by noon. Just in time for a nice long nap after the party. And all the guests could still enjoy the rest of their day. Finally, I ordered a cake, threw together some loot bags and bought a bunch of food at Costco. Ta-da! Instant birthday party. No cooking, no clean-up, and all over in two hours. Everyone was happy, especially the birthday boy. And most importantly, the birthday boy’s mom.

Realistically, which this approach may have cost a bit more than having a party at home (but really not that much more), it was well worth the added expense. I’ve never organized a party that was less stressful. It was the perfect party for a two year old. I think as time goes on, this will continue to be my approach for kids’ birthday parties. The venue may change from year to year… but one constant will probably remain – it won’t be at my house!

That, my friends, is a short and sweet story about this modern mom’s guide to birthday parties – sealed with a KISS…keep it simple sweeties! Mwah!