Tag Archives: husband

Baby Boy is Almost Here!

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So it looks as though our Rainbow will be finally making his appearance soon.  Originally we had intended to deliver him via VBAC however life doesn’t always go the way you plan.  At 37 weeks, my doctor ordered an additional ultrasound as I was measuring 2 weeks ahead of schedule and he wanted to ensure that the baby was in the correct position and determine his weight.  Well, boy oh boy, he is big!

At 37 weeks gestation, our Rainbow was estimated to weigh 9 lbs. already and was in the 90th percentile for babies of his gestational age.  My doctor has been very supportive in our decision to attempt a VBAC, but after the last 2 check ups, things have changed.  Turns out that our Rainbow is so big that he is unable to drop into my pelvis thus not engaging and triggering labour.  Our doctor said that if we truly wanted to do a VBAC, he would let us go to 41 weeks, but he warned me that it would likely be a long, hard and complicated birth that may end up in a C-Section anyways.  He also said that since our boy hadn’t dropped yet, it wasn’t exactly a good indication of things to come.  So after much deliberation, we have booked a C-Section for next week.

I was hopeful that we would get to have a natural birth, but I also do not want any complications causing undue harm to myself or our baby boy.  We have been through so much just to conceive him that putting myself and him in a situation that could cause complications, uterine rupture or him getting stuck and then having to make emergency decisions in the throe of things seems unnecessary and not in our best interests.  I’m not overly ecstatic about the idea of a C-Section, but with all things considering, it’s the very best option.  Thankfully Hubby will be taking 2 weeks off of work to stay home and help me with our Rainbow and Princess as well as letting me recover.   Also, by mere coincidence, Rainbow will be born on his due date.  Now how often does that happen?

A Reflection

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Sometimes there are days or dates that make us stop and reflect on things in our life.  Today is my Emery’s angelversary.  Last year I bawled hysterically, locking myself in the bedroom to weep as it had been a year since we lost her.  This year I decided I would not cry, not that I’m not sad or hurting, but that in some small way, she made me stronger.  I sit here typing this post completely grateful for all my life experiences, good and bad, because they have made me into the person I am today.  Sometimes through death we come to realize and appreciate how precious life really is.

I appreciate those in my life more now than before.  Especially my Hubby.  I know I gush about him quite a bit on here, but man, I am very very lucky to have him.  It’s almost been 7 years since we first met and as time goes on we become stronger and stronger.  He is my best friend, the person I can rely on and no matter what happens in our life, I know at the end of it, he will still be there.  He loves me, and I mean really loves me.  There are days when I’m absolutely spent, hair a mess, no make up, wearing nothing but track pants and a bummy old t-shirt, haven’t showered and stressed to the max and I will sometimes catch him smiling at me.  And not the smile that means he’s laughing at me and how I look, but smiling because he loves me.  He has seen me at my worst, held me when I’ve cried, laughed at our best and for those simple reasons is why I love him more than I have ever loved anyone.  He is a good man and I hope that everyone can find someone who makes them as happy as he makes me.

Then there are my children.  Oh my Princess, what a character.  I have watched her grow for the last 4 1/2 years and I am so proud of the little person she is becoming.  Nothing can make me feel better than when I’m lying in bed and she climbs in and wraps her little arms around my neck and snuggles in close and dozes off to sleep.  Her tiny hands, dimples, wild curls and long lashes, oh I could stare at them for hours.  And now that we are anxiously awaiting our Rainbow, who lets me know he is growing big and strong with each kick and flip, I can say that being a parent is both exhausting and rewarding at the same time.  My children are my everything and I cannot wait to watch them grow and experience all their firsts.  I am in love and loved, and for that I am very grateful.

My Emery has taught me how to be resilient, how to heal, and most of all, how to pick myself back up and carry on.  There isn’t ever a day that she doesn’t cross my mind and maybe that is her way of saying “I’m still here.”   So today I will not mourn her passing, but celebrate her life, no matter how short it was, because after all she “was the one who heard what my heartbeat sounds like from the inside.”

Slow Cooker Pulled Pork Sandwiches

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I have been meal planning like a madwoman and I’ve been trying my very best to stay within our grocery budget while sampling new meal ideas.  I attempted Pulled Pork today and it was Hubby approved and I thought I would give you the recipe.  Easy to make, not time-consuming, delicious and budget friendly.

 

INGREDIENTS

  • 2 lbs Pork Roast
  • 3 Onions, 2 sliced and 1 chopped
  • 1 16 oz BBQ Sauce
  • Salt & Pepper
  • Brown Sugar & Paprika
  • Water
  • 3/4 cup Apple Juice, divided

 

DIRECTIONS

  1. Slice 1 onion and spread on the bottom of the slow cooker.
  2. Rub the Pork Roast with salt, pepper, brown sugar and a little bit of paprika
  3. Place on top of the bed of onions and top with 1 sliced onion.
  4. Add 1/2 cup of Apple Juice.
  5. Fill the slow cooker with water until it is 2/3 the way full.
  6. Cook on low for 8-12 hours on low or 4-6 on high.
  7. Once the time is up, strain the slow cooker and remove the water, onions, fat and roast.
  8. Shred the pork with forks.
  9. Dice 1 onion and add the roast, onions, BBQ Sauce and 1/4 cup of Apple Juice to the slow cooker.
  10. Cook on high for 1 hour.
  11. Serve on crusty buns and enjoy!

 

Boy oh Boy oh BOY!!!

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I received the best birthday gift today.  Not only is Hubby and Princess cooking me a delicious steak dinner and I’ve got movie plans with family, but today I found out the sex of our baby.   Being 21 weeks and 2 days along, I had the standard 5 month test.  It ran about an hour as my doctor wanted to measure all the organs and check for other things due to our past complications.  Of course the baby did not want to cooperate and kept flipping over and refused to have its picture taken.  I was put in every position possible and told to go for a walk and “talk” to the baby and get it to be cooperative.  After all the measurements were taken they asked if I wanted to know the sex.

“Yes, I want to know.”

“It’s a boy,” she informed me.

“Are you serious?!”

They looked perplexed.  “What? You don’t want a boy?”

“No, a boy is fine.  Everyone kept telling me I was having a boy.  I thought I was having a girl.”

They then brought in Hubby and asked him if he wanted to know.  They told him and he is so very happy.  For my birthday I found out what we are having and for Father’s Day, Hubby will receive a son!  Turns out all those Gender Myths were right, I’m having a boy.

Five Rounds at Dinner Time!

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Welcome Ladies & Gentlemen.  You are all about to witness the greatest battle in Mommydom.  This is it, the Toronto Mommy/Daughter Dinnertime Showdown Championship! Through blood and sweat and tears, you are going to see two rivals face off in Five Rounds at Dinner Time.  Let’s Get Ready to Rumbleeeeeee!

In the blue corner, weighing only 35 pounds and measuring 3 1/2 feet, we have Princess Danger!  Don’t let her button nose, dimples and curly blonde hair fool you, she’s a Warrior of Defiance!  This featherweight has sharp teeth, a stiff upper lip and sneaky right hook.

In the red corner, the veteran heavyweight measuring 5 feet 3 inches tall and weights not to be told, Mommy Lionheart.  26 years in the culinary world have made her a contender, but that gullibility may be her downfall.  So Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats as Five Rounds at Dinner Time is about to begin!

DING!!!

ROUND 1

Mommy Lionheart starts with an opening jab; fajitas for dinner.  The smell entices Princess Danger and it brings her too close.  Wham!!!  Princess Danger falls for the grated cheese.  And a right hook from Lionheart with the surprise of chocolate milk for dinner.  Round 1 goes to Lionheart and the crowd goes wild!

ROUND 2

Round 2 is starting off with a bit of back and forth with Princess Danger crippling Mommy Lionheart with some hesitations of sitting in the middle chair.  Oh out of left field comes an uppercut to the Lionheart with Danger beginning to whine “I don’t like dinner.”  Lionheart stumbles but comes back with “You need to eat so you can grow big and strong.”  Great recovery.  Danger sits in the chair but is not out of the fight yet.  Tie for Round 2.

ROUND 3

The battle for dinner time commences in Round 3.  Both look at each other, weighing their strengths and weaknesses.  Lionheart has the authority, but Danger has a unparralleled stubbornness.  This will be a close one.  Danger is toying with Lionheart’s gullibility.  A few love taps are exchanged.  Danger plays with her food, dancing circles around Lionheart persistent nagging.  “Please eat.”  Danger returns with “I am eating, just slowllllyyy.”  Bam!!! Jab to the ribs of Lionheart with Danger sticking out her tongue.  Lionheart counters with Time Out!  Lionheart wins for Round 3.

ROUND 4

Danger is weary but not broken.  After returning from Time Out, she plays safe, slowly eating her dinner, watching Lionheart from the corner of her eye.  Lionheart eases back, sensing her contender’s submission.  Danger pulls a sneak move, dropping her fork on the floor and “accidentally” spilling her food on the floor.  “I’m all done now.” Kapow!!!  Lionheart counters with a fresh plate of food.  Danger, now agitated, starts to pout and pulls out all the stops.  “Daddy Big Softie Pants, please feed me.”  Lionheart screams “Interference, interference!”  The referee does nothing.  2 against 1, how unfair!  Lionheart does her best to keep the authority, but the arrival of the tag team player, throws her off and Round 4 goes to Danger!

ROUND 5

Lionheart is bruised and bloody but the fight continues.  The tag team is becoming too much.  Danger is only strengthened by Big Softie Pants and they begin dancing circles around her.  She swings tirelessly but it’s no use.  Danger stalls with eating.  “I want ice cream for dessert” Danger begs, and before Lionheart can jab in a “No!” Big Softie Pants throws a right hook “Only if you eat your dinner.”  Lionheart is dizzy.  She tries to negotiate with “Five more bites” but it is no use for the Dynamic Duo.  “You did good Danger, you can have ice cream.” Whoa did you see that coming?!  Despite Danger not finishing her dinner, Big Softie Pants delivers the final blow and it is the final blow to Lionheart!  TKO!!!!!!!!!  Total Knockout Win for Princess Danger and Daddy Big Softie Pants!!!!!!!!  The trophy for today is a Cotton Candy Ice Cream Cone with Sprinkles from Baskin Robbins.

 

*This is a fictionalized account of our dinner time dramas as of late.  Princess is testing every last nerve when it comes to dinner.  As you can see, I’m outnumbered”

Learning to “Grin and Bear it”

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Since learning that I am infertile, one of the hardest things I’ve had to come to terms with is learning to ‘grin and bear it’.  I will admit it is not one of my strongest personality traits as I am one of those people who whatever I am feeling is almost guaranteed to show on my face.  If it’s annoyance, anger, disbelief, happiness, or sadness, the expression is there on my face.  I don’t like to hide, I don’t like to lie, but at the same time, sometimes the time and place for such conversations are not appropriate.  My Princess is almost 4 years old now and many of our friends and family are having children.  And with that, the question Hubby and I dread is being asked at every turn.

“So,” they cheerfully ask, poking me in the abdomen.  “When is she getting a brother or a sister.”

Cue the awkward smile and shift in my stance.  Most of the time they corner Hubby and I alone so we are unable to lean on each other for support or help with the answer.  I know they don’t do it out of spite or malice, but I cringe when I am asked it.

“Oh, umm, you know, hmm, when it happens.  We’ll see how it goes.”  I divert my eyes anywhere but in theirs.  I don’t want to have to see their expression when I don’t give them a straight forward answer.  How do I say, “Well my prolactin levels are extremely high and have drained my estrogen levels so my body is incapable of maintaining any pregnancy and my ovaries are not releasing any eggs.  My body is essentially going into early menopause and I’m only 26. Oh and my ovaries are covered in cysts.”  That doesn’t really make for a great conversation.  It is one thing for me to be uncomfortable, but I really wouldn’t want to be the cause of someone else’s discomfort.  I’ve had strangers on the bus ask me, teachers at my daughter’s daycare, coworkers, friends, family and everyone else in between.  I haven’t yet found a suitable answer.

So many people I know are having babies.  My sister is pregnant and so is a close family member.  My cousin just had a baby and her sister is due any day.  My hubby’s brother had a beautiful blue-eyed baby girl 6 months ago and my friend is having a baby as well.  I am all very happy for them, I really am.  I rub their tummy’s, ask them how they are feeling, celebrate the life the life that is about to be brought into this world.  But as I smile there is a dull ache that lies inside.  It’s not cramps from bad food or from menstruation or ovulation, it’s a dull ache from a fear that I may never get to feel another kick, hear the whooshing of the ultrasound, crave pickles, have heartburn radiating through my body or be hunched over a toilet praying to the porcelain gods again.

I’ve received so many comments from people who I know mean well, but they come off so inconsiderate and back-handed.

“You just need to go back and enjoy sex again.  Then you’ll get pregnant.”

I really wish it were that simple.  Out of 28-35 days, depending on your cycle length, you only have about 25 – 30% chance of becoming pregnant.  You have to determine when you ovulate, how long your luteal phase is, how soft and where your cervix is.  I took Siberian Ginseng, Prenatal Vitamins, Evening Primrose Oil, Dong Quai and Green Tea for their ‘fertility’ aid. I was charting my entire cycle.  I charted my basal temperature, my cervical mucus, how tender my breasts were, lower back pain, how heavy my flow, how long it lasted, basically acting as an ovulatory detective searching for clues when my ovaries will release an egg and when to approach Hubby and give a very small timeline to when we have to “enjoy sex”.   Nothing says ‘sexy’ like “We have to have sex right now and tomorrow and I have to elevate my hips for 30 minutes.”

“Just chill out, you are way to stressed.”

Unfortunately stress and infertility often go hand in hand.  Stress can lead to infertility and infertility only increases stress.  It’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t kind of situation.

“You should be grateful you have one child.  Some people don’t have any.”

I would have to say this is the most inconsiderate and cruel comment I’ve ever received.  I am very grateful for my beautiful brown-eyed, blonde curly-haired little Princess.  She is my entire world.  I look at her and thank every lucky star in the universe for giving her to me.  We almost lost her at 3 months, and the cord wrapped around her neck during labour and she was born via c-section.  I hug her and kiss her and tell her how much she means to me every single day.  Most of my happy moments are the ones where I am with her.  But I also dreamt of giving her siblings.  A house full of siblings.  I always wanted to be a mom to many children.  I took care of my sisters and babysat many children.  I love kids.  Their laughs, smiles, their attitudes, everything about them makes me smile.  They are so innocent and happy that it always boggles my brain when people say they annoy them.  The old adage “Barefoot and Pregnant” was my mantra growing up and I couldn’t think of a better dream for me.  I’m not talking about pulling a Dugger, but I wanted at least 4 kids, if not more.  Just a house full of children running around, me ragged and tired, but overjoyed.  The doctor says I’ll be lucky if I am able to have one more.

“There’s always adoption and surrogates.”

Generally it’s these people who know nothing about costs and legal matters.  These options are not always available to everyone.

I think what hurts the most is that I have to look at my little girl when she asks me where the ‘baby’ went and why she doesn’t have a sister and try to come up with some sort of child-friendly response and then look at my Husband, who wanted a house full of kids and try to articulate ‘I’m sorry’ that I let him down.  I am 26, at the supposed height of my fertile years and have to say “I’m infertile”.   I never thought that phrase would ever come from me.  I’m not embarrassed or ashamed.  I have come to know many people who are infertile and are suffering from what I am suffering from.  It’s just an overwhelming sadness, guilt and grief that is so very hard to explain, comprehend and come to terms with.

After 2 years of trying to get pregnant, I have found an online community that has truly helped me realize I’m not alone and one blogger in particular, Practical Katie and her post “When One Isn’t Enough” really did help me understand this.  And to my readers, your kind words have really helped pick me up when I have been feeling down.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugliness of Daycare

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My Princess has been in daycare since she was 18 months old.  I went back to work on weekend and nights when she was about 10 months old but didn’t go back fulltime until she was 16 months.  I moved from Ottawa to Toronto when I was 7 months pregnant and decided that when I went back to work, I wasn’t getting a transfer.  I knew I needed a job that paid the bills, left a little in the bank and would still cover the cost of daycare.  I searched all over Toronto but most were either inflexible hours, too little pay or ridiculously far away from where we lived.  So I found a job where I worked nights on the weekend.  Despite hating it, it put money in the bank and I didn’t need a sitter.  But eventually it just wasn’t enough, I really didn’t want it to be my career, let alone my job.  So I started looking again for another job.

Finally I found the job where I work now.  I am a food writer for a catering company in Toronto and I’m also the Head Catering Coordinator.  The hours are great, so are my coworkers and it is only a 35 – 45 minute commute each way.  Not bad for Toronto.  I began my search for childcare.  We found one woman who ran her own daycare out of her home who lived near us.  She was relatively priced, had children of her own, so it seemed like a great fit.  We went away the weekend before I was supposed to start and when we came home that Sunday I had a message on my machine.

“I’m really sorry to do this to you so last-minute, but I’ve changed my mind.  I’m closing down my home daycare.”

Are you serious?!  Thank goodness for my in-laws who helped us out extraordinarily with our search for childcare.  They watched her until we found someone else.  While I was searching for the first place, I had come across a Nanny (or so she called herself) that was fresh out of college.  She was currently working at a daycare, but wished to go into business herself.  She was willing to come to our home and watch her.  She was all up to date with her CPR and First Aid.  She graduated from the Early Childhood Education program at a Toronto College.  She had references from daycare, families and other related jobs and all the references came back stellar.  I even had a police background check done and it was clean.  I did my research and was thorough, she was the person.  It wasn’t long until we learned our lesson.

It started off fairly early that she was not showing up to work, or calling in sick.  Once she told me she couldn’t work on Monday because she “thought” her cousin was getting married.  Then we started to hear from our neighbours that there were people waiting outside for her throughout the day.  We had a discussion with her and told her that under NO circumstances was she to have anyone in our home.  She said she understood.  Next thing we noticed, food from our fridge was missing.  Not a little bit at a time, like cans of soup, tube of cookie dough, you name it, it started to go missing.  We started looking for daycare, because it was getting to be too much.  Then this (insert expletive) did something so atrocious that she will rot in a special place for what she did.  Hubby and I keep all our twoonies to put in the Princess’ piggy bank.  It goes towards her college fund and the Wednesday prior to this day, we had counted it and there was $100 in it.  Hubby suggested that we roll it and put it in the bank.  The next Monday, I came home from work and found numerous Tim Horton cups in our trash.  I remember she brought one when she arrived that morning, but there were three in the garbage and Hubby said he didn’t have any.  Then I went to the sink and found three bowls of Alphaghetti in there.  And none were of my daughter’s special children’s bowls.  Hubby said when he got home, there was someone waiting outside.  Hmm.  My spider senses were beginning to tingle.  I was going to call her that night to ask if she had anyone over.  But first, I had twoonies in my purse that I was going to put in her piggy bank.  Now I kept our laundry money, spare change jar and the Princess’ piggy bank in our bedroom with the door closed.  She was aware that our bedroom was off-limits and she was never to go in there.  So that night, when I went to put the change in the piggy bank, I lifted it up and much to my surprise, it was EMPTY!!!!  Oh I have never been so angry in my life!  I began frantically searching around my home for 50 twoonies.  Asked Hubby if he had taken them to the bank and he said ‘no’.  So I called her.  And this is how the conversation went.

“Hi (insert name).  Did you have someone over today?” I asked calmly.

“No.”

“Well Hubby said he saw your friend outside.”

“Yeah, they were waiting for me.”

“Well I found coffee cups in the garbage.”

“Oh, well they came up to use the bathroom.”

“Did they eat my food too?  I found bowls in the sink.” Rule number one for criminals, get rid of the evidence.

“Ummm.”

“Listen, the Princess’ piggy bank is empty.”

“I never went into your bedroom.”  Caught you!

“That’s funny, because I never told you that’s where the money was.”

Dead silence.

“Listen, you are fired and I’m calling the cops.  You stole money from a baby!  You are low.”

I called the cops and they came and took our statement.  I was assigned a detective and they tried numerous times to call her and go to her place of residence, however, because she lived in an apartment building, and she didn’t answer the buzzer, they couldn’t go in the building.  Robbed a baby and got away with it.  But I was offered this little tidbit of information.  Apparently, in Canada, if you have been arrested but never charged formally, these offenses never show up on your record and our dear sweet thief had been arrested TWICE for shoplifting and theft and ONCE for domestic abuse, but all charges were dropped.  So my background check did absolutely nothing to protect my child.  I did however, call her references and informed them of what she did and they were absolutely wrong to give such stellar ones when she was nothing but a thief.  I felt so guilty after that.  I left my child in the care of someone who robbed her.  Stole money that was to be for her education.  I felt like I made the worst decision of my life.

Soon after that, we found the daycare where we are at now.  It was close to home, reasonably priced and was professionally run.  That is not to say we were not without bumps in the road.  Three days after going into daycare, our Princess contracted Norwalk Virus, and had vicious diarrhea for 3 weeks.  She lost so much weight and her poor bum was so blistered that we had to put a steroid cream just to keep them from bleeding.   She was so miserable it was devastating.  The daycare fortunately refunded us 2 weeks of the cost, however, Hubby and I had to alternatively take days off work just to care for her.  I had literally just started a new job and was missing days out of the week.  I thought for sure I was going to be fired.  But I had no one else.  The daycare wouldn’t take her.  After she finally got over that, it was maybe a week before she got an ear infection that spread to her eyes, throat, sinus and lymph nodes and sent her into a fever that was so high I had to put her in bath of cold water.  She screamed bloody murder.  I put her on the couch naked to try to cool her down when she started to have a seizure.  Her eyes rolled back in her head, she started to shake uncontrollably and was gasping for breath.  I was frantic.  I have epilepsy, but to see it happening to your child is frightening.  She had 12 seizures that day.  She was rushed to the local Children’s Hospital where she spent days in and out of it for close to six months.  Any virus or germ or bacteria that was going around her daycare, she got it.  I never believed it when people told me that once you put them in daycare they get sick all the time, but they were right.  Her drastic change in health put a lot of strain on us emotionally, physically and financially.  I was starting to wonder if going back to work was the right thing to do.

She had lost so much weight and became so weak that she had troubling walking.  She would collapse for no reason, continued to have seizures any time she had a fever and we went for countless tests.  Seeing her hooked up to an EEG machine, with wires running off of her head was so heart breaking.  She went to visit a pediatric neurologist who gave us good news.  She wasn’t epileptic, although her chances of developing it later in life are increased.  He gave us pills that were to crush in her cheek if she had another one and to monitor all her fever’s closely.  Thank GOD she hasn’t had another one after that.  It took about a year in daycare before she was able to ward off any viruses.  But despite her not getting them, she brought them home to us.  Hubby never got tonsilitis until we put her in daycare.  But as soon as she went in, he was getting it every 2 months.  He could even tell before it hit that he was getting it.  Finally in January, after going to the doctors, he had his tonsils removed because the doctor said that his tonsils were basically working against him.   The surgeon said they were the size of meatballs they were so infected.

Now despite a tumultuous year and a half, there were great things about the daycare.  My Princess is a social butterfly and has so many friends.  We would have parents come up to us and say how much their children talk about her.  Kids would fight just to sit next to her.  Her daycare also had fashion shows, plays, puppet shows and field trips that has greatly enriched her life.  Just this week she was able to go to the African Lion Safari which is where you drive through a park of African animals and get to see them close up.  She got to see monkey’s and lions and loved how the monkey’s climbed on the car.  They provided her with life experiences and friends that she may not have gotten if I had stayed home.  I am not worried about her going to Kindergarten now because of how well she flourished in daycare.  I also know now that her immune system is stronger, she won’t be missing that much time at school.  I would recommend our daycare to anyone and if we have another child and I go back to work, we will definitely be using that one again.

We had some ‘Paranormal Activity’ last night

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You know the movie Paranormal Activity and the scene where the child hovers eerily over the bed, with her hair all in her face.  That happened to us last night.  It was cool and dark, the only sound was the humming of the air conditioner.   We did not hear footsteps.  Hubby and I were sleeping peacefully, dreaming away when all of a sudden a presence appeared.  It shook us unnervingly.  We began to stir, our dreams fleeing with the fluttering of our eyelids and then Hubby saw it.  Standing over our bed, not saying a word, stood a 3 year old, her blond curls in her face wearing nothing but her pull up at 2:17 am.  Hubby screamed the loudest and jumped the highest I have seen.  Those high-jumpers in the Olympics would be hard pressed to match the height he got to.  His shrieks woke me and I started laughing my head off.

“Princess, what’s wrong?”  Hubby asked her when he caught his breath.

“Nothing Daddy, I just really like your bed,” she giggles as she climbs into our bed and then for the rest of the night, sleeps sideways, leaving this Mom and Dad with a sliver of the bed on either side.

Hubby rolls over in the morning to give me a kiss and whispers this in my ear; “That kid is determined to shave years off my life.”

What I Would Tell My Younger Self

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I was asked today, if I could go back in time, what would I tell my younger self.  I sat for a moment and thought to myself, what would I say?  Study harder in school? Save more money?  Don’t date douchebag because he was one?  I didn’t want to be too flippant with my answer and disingenuous, so I told them I would think about it and get back to them.  The question weighed on my mind for quite some time.  It wasn’t one of those philosophical questions that leaves you pondering the great “what if’s” of life but I could not shake the question from my mind.  And after a few hours I have finally come up with my answer.  Nothing.

Most people are probably like “yea right, who wouldn’t tell their younger self to take out stocks in Facebook?”  But I genuinely, whole-heartedly would say nothing.  I would give her a squeeze and go back to my time.  And my reasoning being is I have absolutely no regrets.  Again, I’m sure some people are rolling their eyes, but I have no regrets.  Please don’t confuse this with I haven’t done anything in my life that has caused regrets, because I assure you there is PLENTY.  I swear to the great ever-knowing being in the universe that I have screwed up royally many times in my life, some of which still make me cringe in either embarrassment or give me “What the hell were you thinking?” thoughts.  However I don’t regret those choices, decisions, actions, or accidents for the simple fact that I learned something from them.  It could be as simple as learning that it is not a good idea to drink an entire bottle of Tequila or trying to scream at the boat driver to slow down while you are slowly going underneath the water while tubing (both true stories).  I have dated boys that looking back now were the biggest wastes of time, but back then, oh my, were they “like the hottest thing ever!”  If I had not dated my fair share of jerks, I wouldn’t have learned what I will tolerate and what I won’t, that I am perfectly fine in my own imperfections and I was just fine without them.  And I wouldn’t have met Hubby, and without sounding pukishly sweet, is literally my other half.

My parents both enforced a strong urge to want to learn.  My mother was always quizzing us on trivial facts, history, geography and she read to us even as we became teens.  She was a key person in my life that helped develop my love of reading, writing and the English language.  Her and I would play rounds of Scrabble, and I’ll never forget the day that “the student passed the teacher” and I beat her for the first time.   My Dad also taught me a lot.  He wasn’t that great at school stuff, although he did do  my grade 8 science project on hydraulics that won me the science award.  But he was more about life.  He taught me how to drive, catch a fish, skin a deer (no joke, I was allowed to take time off school to go hunting.  I would be passed out in the truck while he hunted, but I didn’t have to go to school, so that was the upside), and it was actually him that told me “If you have learned something from it, don’t regret it.”  I have lived by that motto for my entire life.  And to my parents credit, I tested their every nerve and patience.  I was that kind of ‘teen’ that if you told them not to do it, I would go do it just out of spite.  Like when my Mom told me not to tell my Dad about my first tattoo, I went directly outside and showed him.  Or like when I went away to University and decided I was going to get a “Marilyn” piercing on Thursday and post in on MSN.  My sister called me the Wednesday before, and told me that Dad told her if I get my lip pierced, I’m not to come home.  So what did I do?  Got it done that afternoon and went home on Friday.  But I brought a friend because you can’t kill me if there are witnesses.

The Marilyn piercing has now grown over but I still have a scar from it, which my mom reminds me “I’ll have for life!” Oh well!

Point of the story is, I have lived a great life.  I have had some lulls, valleys, peaks and fiery pits of HELL, but it is my life.  So I guess I wouldn’t say anything to my younger self because every misstep, stumble, trip, wrong turn and flat-out fall on my face moments I experienced while growing up, led me to who I am today.  And I know this may sound a little bit conceited, but I like me, actually I think I’m pretty damn awesome.  I have people who love me, adore me, like me, dislike me, hate me and loathe me with the passion of a burning sun, but the only thing that really matters, is that I like me, and I do.  And for those haters out there, keep hating because you know I’m fabulous! LOL 😉

The Neverending “Why” Questions

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My Princess has officially hit the “Why” stage.  Every question is followed by yet another ‘why’ question until you are left answerless.  This was today’s ‘why’ series;

“Mommy, do you have a grandma and grandpa?”

“Yes but they are in heaven now.”

“Why?”

“Because they were old and sick and it was their time to go.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what happens when you are old.  You get called up to heaven.”

“Why?”

“Because when it’s your time, it’s your time.”

“Why?”

“Because there is a greater place for us when we are done on Earth.”

“Why?”

“Because Earth is a place for living people, heaven is for people who have passed on and they live another life there.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t live on Earth forever.”

“Why?”

At this I have given up.  As much as I don’t want to admit it, I don’t think her 3 year old brain can handle an in depth existential conversation about the hereafter. One of my favourite comedian’s does a great bit on the ‘why’ questions of children.  It’s full of swear words but I think it really drives the point home.