It's business time

The difference between the male and female role in parenthood glared out at me this morning.  When I had to go to the bathroom to do my business I did it downstairs. I kept the door open to make sure I could keep a strict eye on the bambino.  This process took less than a minute flat.

When the man did his bu'ness he went upstairs, closed the door, locked it, and stayed in there FOREVER without a care in the world.

At least one of us still maintains some sense of privacy.............right??  Bah.

Baby talk is for Babies

I had the pleasure of spending a bit of time with the kids at Rohan's Preschool on his first day, as the dressing parent.  At any given day there are two parents helping out in the classroom.  There is the duty parent that stays for the duration of the class time, helping the teacher with bathroom breaks and providing nutritional snacks for the kiddies.

The dressing parent comes in just before the kids get ready to go outside for playtime.  The role of the dressing parent is just that, to dress the kids, or help dress them, in outdoor clothing appropriate for the weather.  So I was the dressing parent that beautiful sunny first day of school.  I had to show up about 40 minutes early to help the kids get dressed.  Good god these kids are cute!

I was a bit early (no matter how hard I try not to be, I am ALWAYS early) and I was able to watch the teacher in action.  She was amazing.  The kids listened to her every time with no complaints at all.  She talked calmly, softly, slowly, enunciating every word she spoke.  Easy, small, short words and sentences.  She was so gentle with them, with just a tinge of baby talk, but not quite.

Watching and listening to her speak made me realize that I talk to Rohan (and Avery) as if they were my peers and not 30 years my junior.  I talk to them as if assuming that they do, and should, understand what I am asking them or talking to them about.  How did this happen?

I am thinking that it all stemmed from my vow to myself not to talk goopey, ridiculous baby talk with Rohan.  I did a bit, you know, excitable, wind them up talk.  But not the goo goo gaa gaa crap that oozes out of some people.  I did not want to be that mom.  And yet, there he is, listening intently to the teacher who talks to him like he is a kid.

There might be something there.  I am always feeling compelled to smarten up my talk, but now, for once, I may very well need to dumb it down a bit so that my children can finally understand what the hell I am saying.  I may even get them to listen to me..........

Another theory I tested today was the singing theory.  Instead of asking Ro-Dog to do something, I sang out the task in melodic, off key, musical style, song.  It actually worked quite often.  Strange.  And so continues My Life the musical.

Pre School? Stair climbing?? The advancement continues...

And so, my little ones are growing up.  The littlest went from Dolphin belly flop crawl to climbing stairs in one month flat.  Babam, just like that.  My bigger guy? He had his first day of Preschool this week.  It went amazingly!

I had been pumping him up for school for a good week, reminding him of the fun he had during his orientation day playing with sand etc etc.  He seemed pretty excited about it, though I was nervous that he would have a hard time letting me go. I mean this physically of course.  I was having mental images of peeling his arms from around my neck and bolting out the door (well, maybe a bit more graceful than that.......maybe).

But it was opposite town.

It took no struggle at all to get him out of the car, into the building, shoes off, indoor shoes on, pee pee, wash hands, walk into class room.  Nothing.  Not so much as a 'I don't want to' stumbled from his amazing, big boy lips.

We walked into the classroom and almost immediately he took his teacher's hand as she led him to the sticker area.  I walked over to him, shock and a little fear being secretly suppressed wayyyyy down, as I helped him get a couple of stickers out.  Then I told him that I had to go check on Avery (asleep in the car) and that I would be back in one hour and twenty minutes (yes, my 3 year old totally grasps the concept of time, doesn't yours?).  He said okay.  He gave me a kiss.  He said goodbye.  I left.  Done.  I heard no echo of screaming or pounding feet chasing after me.  I Practically burned rubber squealing out of there.

I wanted to call, I was worried that he was losing the plot, and that they were unable to console him.  I felt guilty.  I felt lighter.  Elated.  I read and drank coffee and chatted with friends at the coffee shop while Avery slept.  It was dreamy.

I got back.  He didn't even run up to me when I walked in the room.  He just sat and quietly ate his snack.  He ate his snack.  No fighting with him to eat.  Dreamy.

Apparently he did not even once ask after me once I left.  I guess we were both pretty ready for this moment of separation.  It was time.  We were just fighting all the time.  He needed to play with kids his own age, enjoy some much needed structure, much needed fun times.

Ahhhhhh  what an effin' relief!  I don't know what I was so afraid of.....................

Keep Crawling Boy

He was a master at his craft.  He reached dizzying speeds.  He was contented to just go go go hand, knee, hand, knee.  Not being able to reach anything above my knee, baby proofing a cinch, tables and couches remained cluttered with junk, not a care in the world.

And then we went to the cottage again..............

Avery met up with his cousin who is two months older and practically walking on his own. 

While there, Avery was still pretty contented to just get by on crawling.  And then we came home.  And all of the sudden, he is pulling his little body up on the furniture.  And now nothing is safe.  We have to start cleaning up this disaster that is our couches, piled high with clean and dirty laundry, toys that are too small for Avery, Colins Guitar..............crap!

Thank God for Netflix

My growing dependence on cartoons has reached epic proportions.  I remember not that long ago (pre #2) that I was smugly mentioning the lack of TV in our household, that absolute minuet amount of brain numbing, lights flashing, stupid box that Rohan had seen EVER.

Now?  With my growing anxiety over loud noises, concern for the wee one getting a kick to the head because the bigger one is bored or there is a toy theft in progress etc. etc. etc.  I have started to use it more often, and  not just for those desperate times, but for other, more mundane things.

Oh shit, I need to make dinner, throw on an episode or two of  Little Bear and it is no fuss no muss. 

Oh dear, my clothes need to go out on the line....Oh Little Bear where are you???

I would like five minutes to myself and the wee one is napping.......Netflix it is. 

What is wrong with me?  I spend a lot of time justifying it because there are no commercials, no more Tree House.  But it is still extreme amounts of stimulation without an active body.  Ro-Dog turns into a crazy person after watching a few episodes on the ole computer, he gets riled up.  And then I regret it.  And then I threaten to take it away. 

And then I forget about the crazy part because I am so very very desperate to get something, anything done around the house. 

I need some time off, mama vacation..............

Garage No Sale

It was a cold, windy grey Autumn day.  We had invited a few of Colin's work mates to join us in what we expected to be, at least a little bit, of a prosperous day.  We were prepared, we were panicked at getting ready in time for the arrival of the masses that we were anticipating.

I had made so very very many muffins.  Pumpkin muffin, banana chocolate chip muffins, tiny muffins, big muffins.  Lots of them.  I planned to get Rohan to sell them along with the yummy hot coffee I had percolating outside.  It was going to be pretty cute, I pictured it vividly. How could you resist purchasing some homemade muffins from a 3 year old??  Impossible!

This garage sale was on a bit of a whim, I was suspect of the amount of goods that we had to sell, it seemed like a very small pile to me, but Colin was convinced, and he had some friends to make up for what we lacked. It wasn't the best looking garage sale in town, but it wasn't that bad!  Or so we thought.........

The excitement began when we had our first customer right when we were setting up.  A couple who lived in our twin house just down the road.  They made a major purchase of some kids books amounting to $2. 

And there we sat, and sat and sat.  We drank coffee and ate muffins.

And repeat.

We had a little barbeque, froze our butts off, and nobody came.

As we started to exchange our goods with each other (I managed to score some very nice clothings for myself) in arrived another customer.  After purchasing a major toy and housecoat for a total of $5.25, our garage sale was done.

Successful?  As a social outing it worked out okay, as a money maker or an introduction to our neighbours?  BIG FAIL!  Oh well, I guess our junk with remain our junk for just a little bit longer!