Hubby is home, which means I get a break from the kids and I get to enjoy his company.
I have to say this was the nicest homecoming I think we've ever had.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
I love my kids (deep breath)...
I'm getting to that wiggy stage, where I just want to hide from them all and go get a pedicure.
Hubby gets back on Friday, thank goodness.
Hubby gets back on Friday, thank goodness.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Friday, August 08, 2008
On prudes and mammary glands
At lunchtime today, about 60 breastfeeding mothers and their children crowded into H&M (a trendy clothing store) in downtown Vancouver to protest the treatment of a mom who dared to breastfeed her two-month-old daughter in the store a few days earlier. Employees forced that woman to hide in a change room.
A woman was also told to cover up on an airplane this month, while another Canadian woman visiting Florida was harassed at a theme park for breastfeeding.
Look, to all the people who think breastfeeding is fine as long as they don't have to be around it, let's get something straight here, once and for all. A baby's human right to eat as soon as it is hungry trumps your preference to be a prudish nitwit and never see a woman breastfeed.
I don't care if it makes you uncomfortable, or makes you blush, or even gives you an erection. I don't care if you stare, or tsk, or harumph and say, "disgusting!" I don't care if you think my two-year-old with a bloody knee and tears coursing down her cheeks is "too old" to nurse.
The simple fact is this: you can look away if you don't like it. Babies and small children have a right to nurse from mother's breast, and I have a right to not be imprisoned in my house like a woman during the Taliban regime in Afghanistan.
This society is sick and twisted if the comfort of men and old ladies comes before the rumble of hunger in a baby's stomach.
A woman was also told to cover up on an airplane this month, while another Canadian woman visiting Florida was harassed at a theme park for breastfeeding.
Look, to all the people who think breastfeeding is fine as long as they don't have to be around it, let's get something straight here, once and for all. A baby's human right to eat as soon as it is hungry trumps your preference to be a prudish nitwit and never see a woman breastfeed.
I don't care if it makes you uncomfortable, or makes you blush, or even gives you an erection. I don't care if you stare, or tsk, or harumph and say, "disgusting!" I don't care if you think my two-year-old with a bloody knee and tears coursing down her cheeks is "too old" to nurse.
The simple fact is this: you can look away if you don't like it. Babies and small children have a right to nurse from mother's breast, and I have a right to not be imprisoned in my house like a woman during the Taliban regime in Afghanistan.
This society is sick and twisted if the comfort of men and old ladies comes before the rumble of hunger in a baby's stomach.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
First meme!
I think this is the first time someone has tagged me in a meme. Here goes...
- Four places I go over and over: my workplace, the grocery store, Super A.'s school and Big I.'s preschool. Exciting life, I know.
- Four people who e-mail me regularly: Megan, the nanny agency, Stacers and Hubby texts me.
- Four of my favorite places to eat? The Vietnamese place around the corner (Saigon Harbour -- order the spring roll and the Chicken curry with rice, amazing), the Broughton Street Deli (great soup), any Thai place, but especially Sod Sai Thai on Douglas and Baan Thai on Blanshard, and the Noodle Box (Malay-Style Fried Rice, brown rice, no prawns, medium hot.)
- Four places you’d rather be? Close to my mother and father, back in Yellowknife during the summer, Paris in winter and working in a newsroom.
- Four TV shows I could watch over and over: Entourage, The Hills (guilty obsession), the fifth estate and (this is a radio show, but I'm putting it in) White Coat, Black Art on CBC Radio One.
- This tag is passed to four people I know in person: I don't know any other bloggers in real life except the ones Megan tagged, so I'll tag the Catholic women blogger I read: Arwen, the Summa Mamas, Pansy and Alicia.
A day as a solo mother
The Hubby sailed to Alaska on Tuesday morning, so I am alone with the kids and a temporary live-out nanny for the month. (for those of you who don't know me in real life, we have had child care hell the past few months. I can't get into it here for many reasons, including legal ones.)
People often say, "I don't know how you do it." Well, let me tell you! Here's what happened today.
5:30 am: Alarm goes off so I can get up and exercise. Toddler N. wakes up at the sound, demanding baba. I'll just nurse her for a few minutes in my bed and then sneak downstairs to do my Pilates....
6:55 am: Dang, dang, dang.
7:00 am: Shower, dress and blow dry.
7:20 am: Head to the kitchen, empty dishwasher, plug in kettle for children's oatmeal.
7:40 am: Go and wake sleepy heads. Convince boys to get dressed ("No, Big I., your penis is not supposed to stick out of the underwear hole. Put it back in. Now.")
7:45 am: Change Toddler N.'s diaper, convince her to sit still so I can put her hair in a ponytail. Give up trying to put her in shorts and cede to her demand for a "pwincess dwess."
7:50 am: Breakfast for the kids while I desperately brush teeth and throw on makeup.
7:55 am: Nanny arrives on time, like clockwork. Realize we have no bread.
8:00 am: Tear out of the driveway in minivan to the corner store for bread, head back home, drop off bread. Kiss oatmeal-eating children. Deal with last-minute Big I. tantrum. Run out door at 8:15 am.
8:38 am: Arrive at work after taking every shortcut I can think of. Still have not eaten breakfast.
9:45 am: Sneak down to the Starbucks for a low-calorie, high-fibre smoothie (4 Weight Watchers Points.) Ask for a shot of espresso in smoothie (o WW points.) Pick up cup by lid and drop it on floor.
9:50 am: Starbucks barista remakes smoothie (with double shot now) for free while I sponge smoothie off myself and another 'Bucks worker mops the floor.
10:00 am: Think about lunchtime. Continue writing news releases.
noon: Go out to lunch with office staff, have a salad (yeah me, on diet!) and have a great time. Also drink a cosmo (bad girl, alcohol at noon.)
4:40 pm: After quiet day at office, run like mad thing toward parking garage. Wish I was riding my bike but takes too long.
5:15 pm: Arrive at home, receive hugs, kisses and nanny debrief.
5:30: Start cooking supper while trying to load washer and listen to kids talk about their day.
6 pm: Supper of low-fat burgers and veggies with dip. Kids actually eat everything served, including vegetables. Sit in stunned silence.
6:45 pm: After kitchen clean-up, brave the grocery store with all three kids. "I., don't sit on the bread. A., come back here and stop flapping your arms and head around [Someone is going to think there's something wrong with him, heck sometimes I wonder.] N., Bella [her doll] does not need her own cookie; share yours. I., you need to pee again???")
7:45 pm: Arrive home, chat with neighbours, put away groceries. Catch N. eating cookies out of one of the bags, shrug and let her.
8:25 pm: Clean-up of bedrooms and living room; kids actually help!
8:35 pm: Bedlunch.
8:45 pm: Send them upstairs to brush teeth while I prise Cheerios off the floor. Wonder why cereal bonds with hardwood on contact.
8:55 pm: Find kids brushing teeth instead of fighting as expected. Hug them all, help them finish.
9 pm: A full hour after bedtime, put the boys in bed, tell story about Daddy sailing, say prayers, turn out light, turn on music.
9:15 pm: Prepare for Toddler N.'s bedtime showdown, and am shocked when she asks for baba. She falls asleep nursing, an almost unheard-of occurrence lately.
9:30 pm: Sink into office chair and drink Coke Zero.
So there you have it, an easy day when Hubby is sailing. You don't want to know about the ones when I end the day sobbing and begging the two-year-old to go to sleep. Feel free to send wine, though.
People often say, "I don't know how you do it." Well, let me tell you! Here's what happened today.
5:30 am: Alarm goes off so I can get up and exercise. Toddler N. wakes up at the sound, demanding baba. I'll just nurse her for a few minutes in my bed and then sneak downstairs to do my Pilates....
6:55 am: Dang, dang, dang.
7:00 am: Shower, dress and blow dry.
7:20 am: Head to the kitchen, empty dishwasher, plug in kettle for children's oatmeal.
7:40 am: Go and wake sleepy heads. Convince boys to get dressed ("No, Big I., your penis is not supposed to stick out of the underwear hole. Put it back in. Now.")
7:45 am: Change Toddler N.'s diaper, convince her to sit still so I can put her hair in a ponytail. Give up trying to put her in shorts and cede to her demand for a "pwincess dwess."
7:50 am: Breakfast for the kids while I desperately brush teeth and throw on makeup.
7:55 am: Nanny arrives on time, like clockwork. Realize we have no bread.
8:00 am: Tear out of the driveway in minivan to the corner store for bread, head back home, drop off bread. Kiss oatmeal-eating children. Deal with last-minute Big I. tantrum. Run out door at 8:15 am.
8:38 am: Arrive at work after taking every shortcut I can think of. Still have not eaten breakfast.
9:45 am: Sneak down to the Starbucks for a low-calorie, high-fibre smoothie (4 Weight Watchers Points.) Ask for a shot of espresso in smoothie (o WW points.) Pick up cup by lid and drop it on floor.
9:50 am: Starbucks barista remakes smoothie (with double shot now) for free while I sponge smoothie off myself and another 'Bucks worker mops the floor.
10:00 am: Think about lunchtime. Continue writing news releases.
noon: Go out to lunch with office staff, have a salad (yeah me, on diet!) and have a great time. Also drink a cosmo (bad girl, alcohol at noon.)
4:40 pm: After quiet day at office, run like mad thing toward parking garage. Wish I was riding my bike but takes too long.
5:15 pm: Arrive at home, receive hugs, kisses and nanny debrief.
5:30: Start cooking supper while trying to load washer and listen to kids talk about their day.
6 pm: Supper of low-fat burgers and veggies with dip. Kids actually eat everything served, including vegetables. Sit in stunned silence.
6:45 pm: After kitchen clean-up, brave the grocery store with all three kids. "I., don't sit on the bread. A., come back here and stop flapping your arms and head around [Someone is going to think there's something wrong with him, heck sometimes I wonder.] N., Bella [her doll] does not need her own cookie; share yours. I., you need to pee again???")
7:45 pm: Arrive home, chat with neighbours, put away groceries. Catch N. eating cookies out of one of the bags, shrug and let her.
8:25 pm: Clean-up of bedrooms and living room; kids actually help!
8:35 pm: Bedlunch.
8:45 pm: Send them upstairs to brush teeth while I prise Cheerios off the floor. Wonder why cereal bonds with hardwood on contact.
8:55 pm: Find kids brushing teeth instead of fighting as expected. Hug them all, help them finish.
9 pm: A full hour after bedtime, put the boys in bed, tell story about Daddy sailing, say prayers, turn out light, turn on music.
9:15 pm: Prepare for Toddler N.'s bedtime showdown, and am shocked when she asks for baba. She falls asleep nursing, an almost unheard-of occurrence lately.
9:30 pm: Sink into office chair and drink Coke Zero.
So there you have it, an easy day when Hubby is sailing. You don't want to know about the ones when I end the day sobbing and begging the two-year-old to go to sleep. Feel free to send wine, though.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Two, four and six
Big I. turned four yesterday, and Toddler N. turned two today.
That means my kids are two, four and six. It also means there are no more babies living in my house. I'm having a hard time grasping either of those statements.
Here's some pics of the birthday kids today, below.
Happy birthday, my Sunshine and my Little Star!
That means my kids are two, four and six. It also means there are no more babies living in my house. I'm having a hard time grasping either of those statements.
Here's some pics of the birthday kids today, below.
Happy birthday, my Sunshine and my Little Star!
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