There's no baby left in her

I was flipping through the pictures on my camera and I came across this picture of KK:

There's no baby left in her, is there? She's all little girl now.

Any one else out there feeling a little teary?

No? Ok, it's just me then.

It seems so strange to me that this bittersweet feeling exists. The feeling of celebrating each new stage and, at the same time, privately grieving the passing of the last stage. Isn't this the point of parenting? To help our children grow up? Why is it then so hard for me to watch it happen? It's not like I want her to go back!

At the same time, as KK reaches each new level of success, I feel a little guilty for the relief that I feel. Relief that she is now able to do another thing on her own. Why the guilt? I feel guilty that I'm celebrating her success partly because it makes life easier for me.

Yesterday when I was in the nursery at church, KK told me that she needed to go pee. Then she informed me that she could go on her own (there's a little bathroom right off of the nursery). I walked her to the door and told her to come right back when she was done. And she did it. All by herself. (Yay! Sniff!)

Then we went out for lunch with some friends and KK needed to go pee again. She wanted to use a stall all by herself and for the first time, I was that mom standing outside the stall, holding the door at the top... listening to her being a big girl, all by herself. (Yay! Sniff!)

At night, I sneak into her room. There, splayed across the bed, snuggled into her blankie, favourite doll of the moment tucked in her arms, I find the baby left in my girl:

It's this holding on and letting go. Just another paradoxical thing about being a mommy. Will I ever get it figured out?

6:59 and 7:00

Up until 6:59 last night, JJ had no interest in trying to walk. None at all. Which, as you already know, was fine by me!

At 6:59, Peanut-lover and I were enjoying a rare few moments alone at the table, finishing up our dinner while the kids played in the living room.

At 7:00, KK yelled out excitedly that JJ was standing. We almost didn't look because she says that every time he stands holding onto something. But it's a good thing we did look, otherwise, we would have missed this:

At 7:00 last night, JJ decided he wanted to walk, and proceeded to walk straight across the living room to us, negotiating obstacles, and laughing his head off. And it was one of the darn cutest things I've ever seen.

He then spent the rest of the evening practicing and even attempting to run. He can even stand up from the floor without assistance.

So, now he's a walking dude.

Good job little buddy! We're so proud of you!!

(See the rocking chair, placed upside-down on top of the living room chair? It's there because, despite the fact that until 7:00 last night he couldn't walk, he still has insisted on climbing up to a standing position on the rocking chair, and wildly rocking it!)

TMI: I can't tell what's more gross

On Saturday, while Peanut-lover and I were out for our bi-weekly date night, we quickly tidied up the van.

I know what you're thinking: Why did we waste our precious date night minutes on cleaning up the van?

Good question. Well, partly because of poor planning (everywhere we went was closed or closing), but mostly because, duh, we both had two hands free for once!

Anywho, I found 2.5 uneaten chicken fingers from A & W tucked away in the van. They had been there a week.

Now tell me, what is more gross. That we left 2.5 chicken fingers in our van for a week? Or that 2.5 chicken fingers survived, unnoticed, unsmelled, in our van for a week?

Yes, these are the same chicken fingers that we feed our children... more often than I'd like to admit.

Saving pictures in stories

I think most of you can tell that I love to take pictures. I love to capture stories in pictures and look back at a series of pictures to remember the event. We have our home computer screen saver set to randomly display all our pictures and sometimes we just sit and watch all the pictures go by, remembering all our stories.

But often, my camera misses the moment.

I've made the mistake a few times, of running to grab the camera only to find I've missed the moment. Missed capturing the picture of the moment, yes, but worst, I've missed the actual enjoyment of the moment in running to get the camera.

I guess I could just have the camcorder running all the time. Ha! Can you imagine?! I do not need that much proof of how frumpy I've become, of how mundane our days can be, of how often we eat Kraft Dinner.

So I write. And in doing so, I capture the picture in a different way. Pictures in stories, instead of stories in pictures. I love having this blog in which to journal my stories. Otherwise they would dissolve in my mind over time. My mind that, right now, is so full of naptimes and schedules, nutritional facts, allergies, favourite toys, favourite foods, interpretations of cries, interpretations of moods. My mind is so full of my kids. Yet the memories of my kids, the precious little details that I think I'll never forget, slip out unnoticed. And so I write.
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This morning, I was pulled from my sleep, by the sound of the kids' bedroom door closing. I looked at the clock: 7:30 am. KK must be up. Then there was silence.

I thought she must be sitting with her daddy having breakfast, a ritual she loves. If she is lucky enough to wake before he leaves for work, they sit together, she on his lap, each with their own spoon, and eat out of one bowl.

I was confused. I couldn't hear the sound of them eating breakfast together, and at 7:30, Peanut-lover should have already been on his way to work, yet I didn't remember Peanut-lover giving me my good-bye kiss. (Turns out that he did kiss me, but I didn't wake... still recovering from my night-shift Sunday night, I was in too deep of sleep.)

Then I heard some activity in the kids' room. And some giggles. I recognized the sound of the kids playing together in JJ's crib. And so I laid back on my pillow and just listened. I could hear them tickling each other and playing peek-a-boo. Then KK climbed out of the crib and made some "tea" for them to share.

"Mommy!"

"Mommy or Daddy!"

"Daddy? Mommy? Come please!"

I dragged myself from my bed reluctantly. I opened their door and there before me, the picture I wished I could capture:

KK was laying diagonally across the crib, on her tummy. JJ had crawled into the bend of her knees and was laying across her legs on his back, with his blankie, sucking his thumb. Together, they were watching JJ's "TV", his Fisher Price Aquarium.

They each looked up at me with those sleepy morning smiles.

*Click*

I got my picture.

The best mommy

At the end of another one of those days... you know, the kind where nothing seems to go right, and the end never seems to come... at the end of that kind of miserable day, I grieve for the wasted day and long to reassure my children that they are loved.

At the end of this particular bad day, I explain to KK that I feel bad for being so grumpy/irritable/miserable all day. I tell her, "I just want to be the best mommy for you."

She looks at me, confused, for a moment. Then responds, "Why you NOT the best mommy for me?"

...and then it dawns on me, she already thinks believes knows that I am the best mommy for her.

How did she get so far ahead of me?

BIG NEWS!!!

I just got the call that my brother and his wife just delivered a healthy baby BOY!

For whatever reason, I was sure it was a girl. I even sent them girl stuff in preparation. (My gender sense is usually right). So when my brother said it was a boy, I answered him with stunned silence for a moment. Probably not the reaction he was looking for!

KK was sure it was a girl too (and was sure they were going to name her after KK). So this is what happened when I told her:

Me: KK, Auntie M. just had a baby BOY!!!

KK: Why?

Me: Why what?

KK: Why she not a girl?
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Well, J and M, I hope you didn't take our surprised responses as disappointment. That is the farthest from the truth. Nephews are a rare treasure in this family full of girls! We are delighted to have another little boy to love... and buy stuff for!

Congratulations!!!! And good job!

(And where are the pictures???)

(Seriously, it's been like an hour already!)

She didn't learn that from me! (No really, she didn't)

Up until a few hours ago, I didn't really think I had much to write about today.

(Well, unless you count that I worked my first solo shift on Saturday. Oh, and as it turns out, my friend mamabutterfly was right. It is just like riding a bike... except for 12 hours.)

(Or that my kids are sick, again.)

(Or that I got rid of all temptation in my house... by eating it them. So, we're all safe now. Dang Milsean bars!)

(Or that we are currently jumping at every ring of the phone, eagerly anticipating the birth of my brother's second baby... (If you were waiting for the go ahead from us J & M, go for it! And seriously, try my "induction method"... no really. Try it. It works. True story.))

But then I walked around the corner to see this:

KK, in full mommy glory, making "dinner" in her jammies, with curlers in her hair. (She even has that exhausted, exasperated look.)

Does Daddy do that? 'Cause she certainly didn't learn that from me... *ahem*

Yeah, must be daddy...

My new toy

I recently received some inheritance money from my Grandma's estate. Since I'm the type that would do something really responsible with it, like pay down student loans, Peanut-lover decided that he was in charge of buying something special for me. Something I really wanted (read #95 here), but that was all kinds of money that I wouldn't dream of spending on myself.

So on my birthday, which also happens to be the biggest sale day of the year in Canada, Peanut-lover went out and bought me this:

Pretty, isn't she? I love her.


Here are some of my favourite pictures from our Christmas holidays.

(My mom with JJ on his birthday)

(My Dad's Christmas tree)

(New Year's Dinner at my Dad's home)

Thanks Peanut-lover. Thanks Grandma. (Miss you).

No, he's not walking yet...

Until a few days ago, JJ has had no interest in trying to walk. None at all. It's too slow for him when he can crawl there faster (and his turbo crawl is one of my favourite things right now!) He's the type that won't just do things because they can be done. No. He needs to want to do something or forget it.

For some reason, people keep trying to reassure me that it's ok that he's not walking yet.

"Don't worry, he'll walk soon."

"All babies walk eventually."

"I'm sure he'll get it figured out soon."

Finally someone asked me if it bothered me that he's not walking yet. No, I replied. It bothers me that he will be walking soon! Soon he will have two hands free with which to terrorized my home.

But still.... those first steps are so cute...

Now he is suddenly interested in trying to walk. He'll step away from whatever he's holding onto, just to crash to the floor after one step.

But there is a new hold-up for him. He can't stop laughing. He collapses into giggles every time he tries to take steps between mommy and daddy.

I might have a few days left before this little monkey takes over my home... I'll just have to keep him laughing!

Merry Christmas!... or Happy New Year... or WAIT! It's the middle of January??

I have been gently reminded that it has been a while since I blogged. Then strongly encouraged (with many exclamation marks) to blog again. And then right out ordered to blog by my never-subtle cousin (love you Lisa... and not just because you told me I look hot yesterday :)

What? You guys haven't been getting my posts? I have been carefully writing them, every day.

In my head.

Oh, you don't have access to my brain? Well, that explains it. It's probably better that way. It's pretty messy in there. You might get hurt. Or at least annoyed. I know I get annoyed if I spend much time in my own brain.

So here I am, sitting at the library on my morning off, beside a really stinky man, all for you guys :) Ok, and partly for me. Because if I don't get some of this stuff out of my brain, it might actually explode. And that would be gross. Because remember, it's messy in there.

(As I'm trying to figure out how to transition into the next part of this post, I've noticed that the person at the computer in front of me is looking at picture after picture of Suri Cruise online. How does one get time to come to the library to look at pictures of celebrity babies? I'd really like to know.)

We took two weeks to celebrate Christmas this year. We spent a few days with Peanut-lover's family, then a few days with my mom and her husband, and then nearly a week with my dad and his wife (they live further away and we won't get to see them much now that I'm back working weekends).

Then we got dumped into January. Peanut-lover started teaching a new course and I started working one shift each weekend. That only partially explains the why of my absence though... and I think you'll like the rest of the why.

Through the last few months, Peanut-lover has been working himself really hard. Too hard in fact. And by default, I have been working too hard. As parents, we rarely operate independantly because when one of us takes on more outside of the home, the other has to cover for them. I knew we were working too hard but felt helpless to do anything about it.

I have always believed that our bodies need rest and will eventually make us take the rest we need. So I wasn't terribly surprised when we spent nearly all of November sick. But still we worked too hard.

Then Christmas break happened. And Peanut-lover crashed. Suddenly, I had to be the strong one for once. There were multiple issues that finally overwhelmed him. It was a hard road for us. But then he started to come out of it and good things started happening.

We started praying together, about everything. We started relying on each other again. We started being there for each other. We started spending evenings together talking. We got busy re-evaluating our priorities and our busyness. We let some stuff go.

So that's where I've been. Spending time with my husband and falling in love with him in a new way. Joining with him to lead our family. Enjoying my kids. Enjoying my man.

And it feels really good.