because i don't worry about enough stuff

I can remember sitting down with Mike to write out Abby's birth announcement for the local paper. She was a handful of days old and we couldn't wait to announce to the world about our brand new baby girl. I remember cutting it out of the paper and setting it carefully aside with all the other traditional keepsakes. I read that announcement over and over, after waiting five years for the stork to arrive, I still had a hard time believing she was actually here. That little announcement made me very happy.

Fast forward four years and along came Maya. She spent the first three weeks of her life scaring the hell out of everyone by refusing to continually breathe on her own with any kind of regularity. Even after we brought her home I was still sort of holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Having a hard time truly believing we were getting off as lucky as we did. I could write volumes about the "survivor guilt" I carry.

We never got a birth announcement into the paper for Maya. Those first few weeks we couldn't even begin to think about it. Then it seemed like we'd be tempting fate. The days turned into weeks, turned into months and all of the sudden she's six and it just never happened.

As you can imagine the Mommy guilt is killing me. The second born child always gets less, isn't that what they say? I often think I should put a happy birthday announcement in the paper and cover it that way. Or do you think I'm the only one that's ever going to obsess about this? Would it bother you?

other than that everything's good

I hesitate to even put this out there because by tomorrow it is very likely that none of it will be true, but right at this very moment I feel overwhelmed, unappreciated, unheard, exhausted, under valued and taken advantage of. My temper is short and my patience long gone. I had to apologize to my kids tonight and the lump in my throat just may choke me. I'm thinking it's probably best I call today done, head up to bed and try to have a better tomorrow.

santa

Boy oh boy - this weekend was quite a weekend. I almost need a weekend to recover from the weekend I did have. There is so much to tell you about, so let's get to it.....

So this weekend was the one the girls and I were going to sleepover at my Mom's and then have breakfast with Santa. Not surprisingly the kids were beyond excited about this. Unfortunately Granny had to work until 6:30, by the time she got to our place at 7ish...... well it was anarchy. Kids were bouncing off the ceiling. The car seat did not want to play nicely with my Mom's car (only 4 more pounds until she's in a booster. I may replace her 1% with half and half or heavy cream). Mike and I were snapping at each other. Yeah it was awesome.

Finally we managed to head out and even stopped at Michaels so I could do a little shopping. Granny took the kids over to PetSmart to pick out a bone for Adelaide (shhh don't tell her), so I got to shop all by myself. If only The Mommy Project had been with me, but alas she was at home enjoying the silence now that my kids were out of town.

When we got to Granny's she had a surprise waiting for us. I'll give you a hint..... Triplets.



The girls were tickled pink over this.

The next morning they were up bright and early, ready to head to the mall for breakfast with Santa. It's actually a nice little set up. With your ticket (the proceeds of which go to the United Way) you get a gift bag with a twin sized fleece blanket with a Christmas scene, a stuffed snowman and your breakfast, courtesy of A&W.



Which meant this guy kept wandering around. Luckily he kept his distance.

Oh and when we started breakfast Abby looked like this.....



That tooth is just barely hanging there.

And after breakfast.....



The best part..... the tooth.... she swallowed it! Oh and the tooth fairy forgot to come last night. That's a parenting fail right there. Luckily she thinks the TF didn't come because she didn't have a tooth to leave out. So we've left a note for tonight explaining what happened.... I better remember tonight!



This is TLP, BFF extraordinaire to Granny and it was her birthday. So Abby and I whipped up this adorable snowman cake for her. We did the candles and singing thing and then served up the cake. TLP's grand daughter took one bite of cake, dropped her fork and said ... This is gross. Luckily she's four and clearly didn't realize that I am an award winning baker, so it wasn't a huge blow to my ego. My sweet little Abby however, immediatley turned to her and said... This is my Mom's best cooking! Cute, right? Nice to know she's got my back.



And the other cutie that belongs to me thought it was pretty good too.

So it was a big full weekend with two little ones on a 2 day Christmas/Santa bender. It's a miracle Granny and I made it through alive. Tonight we took it easy and read Santa Duck that Elwood left for us as part of our continuing 25 days celebration.

parenting fail

A long time ago I told Abby that the icing sugar on her pancakes was actually pixie dust to avoid a meltdown at the restaurant we were having breakfast at. not long ago we were out for breakfast with the kids and when Abby ordered pancakes the waitress asked if she'd like icing sugar on them. Abby had idea what she was talking about so I turned to The Abster and asked if she'd like pixie dust on her pancakes. She said she did and when the waitress walked away she said to me...

I know that's not really pixie dust on my pancakes.

Why don't you think it's pixie dust?

Because after I eat it I can't fly.

So first off, she's figuring me out. I'm either going to have to knock it off with the little "white lies" or get better at it.

Secondly and more alarming... she's trying to fly?! I can only hope it involved standing on the ground and flapping her arms really hard.

Yeah, I'm awesome!

pool fail

Last week was hot! Really hot. The humidex was through the roof. Temperatures were up into the 30's. It was hot.

This coming week temperatures are predicted to be much cooler. Like ten degrees cooler. And rainy. A whole week of rain.

So yesterday, on the last day of this heat wave, we did the only the only sensible thing we could do and finally had the pool filled with water fresh from the Arctic. Water so cold, even penguins would refuse to swim in it.

We're hoping it warms up by August.

i was that mom

Last night I was up with Maya from about 2 am. She was restless and complaining of a sore stomach. She would sleep in little snatches and then wake up calling for me again. She finally gave in and started throwing up just after 4 this morning. By the time Mike got up to get ready for work Maya had settled enough that we both drifted off to sleep on the couch. Me thinking that Mike would take Abby to the sitters to get on the bus there so I could sleep for as long as Maya would let me.

So you can imagine I was surprised to have Abby leaning over top of me saying -- um, Mom, I think I need to get dressed.

Well yeah you probably do, considering your bus will be here in 15 minutes. That's 15 minutes people!

Startled to full awakedness I flew off the couch throwing clothes at Abby and telling her today was the day to set the landspeed record for getting dressed. I raced into the kitchen and made her lunch in about 17 seconds. Next I shoved her in the bathroom hoping she could brush her hair and her teeth at the same time while I grabbed myself some clothes. I love my jammies, yes, but I was not wearing them out to the bus. For some reason that was a line I was not willing to cross this morning, as screwed as I already was. Abby raced for the back door asking what coat should she wear. Really she's asking me what the weather will be like -- does she need her rain coat, a warmer coat or a spring coat. I may have yelled back -- just grab anything -- I'm not sure, it's all kind of a blur.

I am not quite sure how we accomplished it, but she was at her stop with time to spare. Maya slept through the entire event. As for me, there was way too much adrenaline in my system to even attempt to get back to sleep. And by the time is was down to a normal level Maya was up and crying because the cat was looking at her. So now, many hours, many drinks of water, many Mommy snuggles, many soda crackers later I am finally going to sleep. Night all.

d'oh

Nothing makes you feel like Mom of the Year like showing up at the sitters to pick up Maya when she's actually at home with her Grandma.

They should be engraving the plaque on that trophy any day now.

rookie mom mistake

If you have a kid in school I'm sure you're aware of the Scholastic Book catalogues that are sent home once a month. I love books so I'm always excited to see these come home. Abby and I usually flip through them together because spending her allowance on books is always okay with me. Not to mention the school gets something back whenever we buy books and being we are the lowest funded school in the district every little bit helps.

When last month's catalogue came home I couldn't help, but notice they had the complete set of the Weather Fairies books and a price that was well below the cover price if we had bought the books individually at a book store. Abby really enjoyed reading the first two book sof the jewel fairies series, so I thought this set would make an incredible Christmas present for her. And since I am such a giving person I gave the suggestion to Grandma Linda. So I ordered the books on Grandma Linda's behalf and sat back to wait.

Now with previous book orders they just arrived home in her backpack with Abby really not having a clue they were in there, but that was then and this is now. Now she is a grown up first grader who is responsible for her own stuff and apparently has a good idea what she's carrying around in her back pack at any given moment. I found that out the hard way when she got home from school Friday and whipped the entire Weather Fairies set out of her backpack and waved them in my face. In response to that I snatched them out of her hands and hid them behind my back because she'd never think to look there. Abby, of course, was bewildered. Why was her Mom suddenly behaving like a crack head?

I managed to divert her attention and figured the excitement of Halloween would wipe the thought of those books right out of her head. I stored them safely away in my gift trunk hoping never to hear of them again. And I didn't for the next 12 hours. There she was at my bedside first thing in the morning. The girl who never forgets anything. Tapping me on the arm wanting to know where I put the fairy books. I pretend I don't know what she's talking about and when that fails I pretend I don't speak english. Then I divert her attention with breakfast and hope the thought has been wiped right out of her head.

And it was, for about 18 hours. Then there she is with her two books from the jewel fairies series waving them in my face wanting to know where her new books are. Once again I claim not to know what she's talking about.

"What books?" I ask. "I didn't see any books!"

"Yes you did! You snatched them right out of my hands!"

This kid is tough. Maybe we have a investigative journalist on our hands here. She has a mind like a steel trap, that one. Some how I managed to put her off again, but as Mike pointed out I am fighting a losing battle here. So I had to call Grandma Linda and confess this latest parenting blunder. I told her I was willing to keep putting her off because the "out of sight out of mind" rule had to kick in at some point. Right? But Grandma Linda was of the same mind as Mike. So I believe the plan is for her to "surprise" Abby with her new books when she's over to babysit tomorrow night.

As for me I'm looking at a hard hit to the Cool Mom Campaign. Definitely going to be some sort of a points deduction for that one.

i think there may be a cool mom campaign points deduction on this one

For the past three years Abby has been going to swimming lessons with Grandma Linda. They started out in a "Mommy and Me" class and worked their way up to the current lessons which have found Abby, by herself, in the big pool or the "college pool" as she calls it. I've never really gone to watch Abby's swimming lessons. I have been to a handful or so lessons over the years, but traditionally this is Abby and Grandma time. It's been kind of nice to have Abby off doing something that is completely independent of me. I don't have to worry about anything beyond having her towel and suit ready. Grandma Linda takes care of the entire production including, but not limited to, scheduling; picking which class Abby will take, co-ordinating lessons with a couple of Abby's classmate's Moms and so on. So I'm really pretty clueless on the whole swimming lesson set up.

Tonight was Abby's last swimming lesson for this session. Grandma Linda had another engagement so we were going to be in charge of getting her to the pool. No problem I had her at the pool and in her suit with five minutes to spare. Taking her out onto the pool deck I noticed her classmates were already in their life jackets and in the pool. Abby went off to join them and I headed upstairs to the gallery. Got up there just in time to see the teacher handing out report cards and dismissing the class. What the hell? I head back down to the change room and collect Abby realizing my mistake. I thought the class started a half hour later than it actually did. Meaning I had Abby in her suit and ready not five minutes before class started, but rather five minutes before it ended. Blushing, I had no choice but to admit my goof to my neighbour who's daughter is in Abby's class. "See," she said to her own daughter when I told her, "Mommies aren't perfect all the time." So very true. I just wonder why I feel like such a dumb ass when I'm not perfect. Abby couldn't have cared less that she never got a drop of water on her,but two hours later I'm still feeling horrible about it. Damn you Mommy guilt.

little chef

Abby is endlessly interested in learning how to cook. Whenever she seems me at the stove or in the kitchen she's right there at my elbow reminding me I need to teach her how to cook because if I don't then she won't know how. That's five year old logic at it's best folks. So when I saw this little number at a craft sale with Grandma Linda I knew immediately that she would love it.

And then, Mom of the year that I am, I forgot to tuck it in her stocking. Go me! Even still she was delighted with it and now I can't even breathe in the kitchen without her running for her apron reminding me she needs to learn how to cook.

maybe one day i'll throw on jeans and really blow her mind

It's safe to say the dress code has been somewhat relaxed around here the past few days. And by relaxed, I mean it's been jammies twenty-four seven. Granted there have been multiple jammie changes, but it's still all jammies all the time. At least for the female members of the family. So today, feeling a bit more human and with kids who seem to finally be on the mend, I hopped in the shower and afterwards I got dressed. Now to be fair it was just yoga pants and a long sleeved cotton tee, which if you want to get technical is barely a step above jammies, but still I was dressed. So much so that Abby looked me up and down and then asked......

"What are you so dressed up for?"

family dinner breakdown

I think it's very important to sit down as a family for dinner each and every night. I know it must sound like an ambitious undertaking to some, but just look how easy it is;

Tonight Mike, helpfully, set the table. So all I had to do was take dinner out of the oven and put it on the table.

Oops forgot to warm up the veggies. Corn if you're interested. It's always corn. That's all these people will eat. Throw them in the microwave. Call kids to the table.

Abby peeks from the doorway, asking what's to eat. Tears threaten to flow when she hears it's chicken because it's not the right kind of chicken. She doesn't like chicken with stuff on it. She wants to use the computer instead. I hold her brand new Webkinz dog hostage, no dinner - no internet.

Maya arrives at the table already crying. Escalates to screaming once she's strapped in her booster seat. I tell Abby and Mike to go ahead and eat. I take Maya to the living room for some Mommy snuggles that will, hopefully, put her in a better mood.

From the living room I hear Abby bargaining with Mike about how many bites of dinner she has to eat. She then successfully lobbies for Dora pasta in sauce instead. Maya gets down from my lap and heads back to the table. I return to the table as well.

Find out my iced tea is now Abby's iced tea. And Maya wants it to be her iced tea. Maya is crying. Mike, "helpfully", gives Abby's iced tea to Maya. Abby is now crying. Ask Mike if he'd like me to start crying as well. Pour more iced tea into an identical sippy cup. Abby and I, successfully, pull the ole switcheroo on Maya. Peace returns.

Oops forgot Abby's pasta in the microwave. Get it for her. Remember she needs a spoon. Get that. And she'll need a cloth napkin otherwise there will be pasta sauce all over her sleeves. Grab one of out the china cabinet. Sit down and put some dinner on my plate.

Maya is sitting on Mike's lap as he eats. Hand her the peanut butter wrap I made her for dinner. The wrap is rejected. Crying appears to be on the horizon. She eyes Abby's pasta and begins gesturing wildly for it. Grab a can for her out of the pantry. Attempt to get it ready while she holds on to my pant leg and shrieks at me. Throw bowl in the microwave. Pause to wipe Maya's nose.

Get Maya's bowl out of the microwave. Install Maya in her booster seat. Oops, forgot she needs her rubber shirt bib, otherwise she'll be covered in pasta sauce. Grab it, put it on and strap her into her booster seat. Sit down to eat my own dinner. Notice Maya has only a fork, no spoon. With the fork very little pasta is making it to her mouth. Get up to get a spoon.

Back to my own dinner. Remark to Mike that I hope to have a hot meal when the girls are teenagers. Abby wants more iced tea and, coincidentally, I just happen to have some left. Eat my first bite of dinner. Abby is finished with her pasta. She is now requesting dessert. Put her off until I'm finished my dinner.

Finally finished dinner. Scrub all visible signs of pasta sauce off Maya, her chair, booster seat, the floor and the table surrounding her bowl. Abby begins begging for me to help her with her brand new webkinz. Have a sneaking suspicion webkinz just isn't compatible with our dial up internet. Coerce her into helping me clear the table. That would be a stall tactic, for the uninitiated. Stack dishes in the sink, put fridge stuff in the fridge, pack up the leftovers, wipe the table, stall Abby some more. Take out freezer stuff for tomorrow's dinner to thaw in the fridge (never above prepared foods though). And call it a night.

See, easy peasy lemon squeezie, just like I told you.

the day the eyes in the back of my head failed me

You can't turn your back for a second around here because if you do these sorts of things start happening.



Oldest child [finger quotes] accidentally [/finger quotes] puts the scissors near her hair and cuts a chunk out of her bangs. Thank goodness picture day at school was long since past. She says that she wanted to have hair like me, but I guess growing her bangs out seemed like too much work.



Not to be out done, Youngest child gets her hands stuck in not one, but two rolls of toilet paper.

Fun times.

for thanksgiving i'm ordering pizza

Last week as I was writing out my mean plan/grocery list Mike brilliantly suggested I make a turkey dinner. I can't really say what was wrong with me that night, but before I could stop myself I was agreeing to his harebrained scheme. I guess apparently I don't have anything better to do then cook a turkey dinner on a Tuesday. Now I wasn't entirely crazy, I did refuse to cook an actual turkey and instead bought a stuffed turkey breast. One of those cook from frozen Butterball dealies that makes my Mom insanely crazy with it's "not-from-scratch-ness".

Obviously I was going to have to cook this on the weekend unless we wanted to eat dinner at a very European ten at night. This weekend was a bit of a busy one with Mike being out Saturday night and the entire family being out Sunday night. So Monday it was going to have to be. On Monday around lunch time I slide the turkey breast into the oven so it can do it's thing and not long after "company" begins to arrive in the form of my Mother, bearing pizza for lunch and Robin, Tim and the girls. All of this pre-arranged, so it's really no big deal. Mom was there to drop off some school clothes for Abby. Including this adorable skirt that Abby is dying to wear for the first day of school. Robin, I think, just needed a friendly face and a sympathetic ear. Everything was going well. We were having a nice visit and then..... Maya woke up.

I have to break story for a moment to tell you about Maya. I have said it before, but I'll say it again. She is the classic second child. Different from Abby in so many ways. So much more work than Abby, with the not sleeping and the needing to be in contact with me all the time. She drains me, robs me of my patience, leaves me with nothing for myself. Some days, not all, but the balance is definitely in her favour. Most of the time I don't mind. I understand and appreciate that she has different needs than her sister did or does. I understand that her and I being so tightly bonded, to the exclusion of others sometimes, is largely my fault. Today was a "someday". And I hate it. I hate losing my patience with her. I hate being "that Mom", but sometimes it just becomes bigger than the both of us.

This afternoon she got up from her nap after the house was full of people. Now Maya, once she finally gets to sleep is not a child that wakes up easily. She needs a little while to get to her most charming self. I'm not sure what kept her from getting there today, but it's very likely waking up to three extra adults and four extra kids in the house had something to do with it. A first she was content to sit with Mike at the kitchen table. After a very long while she finally got down to check out what the girls were doing, but routinely she'd be back attempting to scale my chair and me. Once settled she'd want down and then immediately back up again. The whole time chanting Mommy Mommy Mommy. I tried everything to distract her. Settling her with Mike in the living room. Bringing her to play with the other girls. She might give me a few moments peace, but before long she'd be back. All I wanted to do was give my focus to Robin. Be a supportive friend and Maya was hampering that. Robin, of course wouldn't agree, but she has twice as many kids as I do.

I'd like to say that her mood improved when the house emptied out, but it did not. By this time the temperature outside was pushing 30 degrees and here I am standing over a hot stove whipping together a turkey dinner with Maya hanging off my leg. As the meal preparations were reaching their crescendo Abby realizes that I have yet to teach her how to cook. And if I don't teach her how to cook, well then she won't be able to cook. So now she has a chair right in front of the entire 20 inches of counter space I have in my kitchen. "What can I do Mom?" she chirps. Oh did I mention Maya is now sprawled across the kitchen floor not crying or whining, but only because she found a pen and is too busy writing on her legs and face. And I let her since it was the longest stretch we'd gone without her glued to my person and/or chanting my name. And anyone who knows me knows that is not the kind of Mom I am. So I juggle pots and serving bowls, get the biscuits of the oven, finish setting the table that Mike only partially set. I'm not exactly sure how one forgets silverware and cups. Then I embark on all those "Mom errands" that keep us Mom's from sitting down and enjoying the meal we just cooked with our family. You know, getting the Dora cup for Abby, a bib for Maya, forgotten pepper and so on.

Finally get to sit down to eat and Maya remembers she had decided to be in a bad mood today. Not a morsel of food goes in her mouth, but rather gets stuffed down in her high chair and thrown all over the floor. She cries and/or whines through the entire meal, reaching her arms out to be lifted down only to twist away from me when I attempt to. To top it all off my core body temperature was about 7,000 degrees. I am not in the least bit hungry. In fact the thought of turkey dinner makes me just a little sick. It may have been an unmitigated disaster if not for Mike's effusive thank yous and offer to bath the kids. Before bath time though he took off to run an errand with Abby and Maya proceeded to scream the entire time he was gone all because I dared to make her lay still for a bum change. Girlfriend was angry and not willing to let it go. She ended up going to bed angry and, boy, did the whole street know, for much longer than they wanted to.

So today, not my best parenting day. Also the absolute worst day to cook a turkey dinner even if it was just a stuffed turkey breast.

So let's review shall we.

cranky kid + turkey dinner cooking + surface of the sun like temperatures = sucks major ass.

I am so glad today is over. The turkey, I must mention, was moist and delicious. Thank God, for my mad cooking skillz.

we're so going to hell

Every night before Abby goes to bed we have the same conversation. First she asks me when her Dad will be going to bed. I always answer soon and that seems to satisfy her. Then she reminds me to tell her Daddy to take her to bed when he goes. I always agree and she scampers off to her room. I'm not exactly sure where this whole thing came from, but it's been going on for the last month or so. It's quite a complicated process, but I'll try and simplify it for you.

Abby's Three Step Bedtime Plan

Step #1: Abby goes to sleep in her own bed.
Step #2: When Mike goes to bed he carries Abby from her bed to our bed.
Step #3: When I go to bed I carry Abby back to her bed from our bed.

This is what she wants us to do every single night. At first I thought she just wanted to sleep in our room, but whenever I ask she always turns me down. The plan must go off exactly as described above. Despite promising that it will be done, we have yet to do it. I mean, come on, she's 49 pounds. Have you ever tried to move 49 pounds of sleeping kid? It's not as easy as you'd think. The funny part is she completely believes that we do this every night.

heart stopping

Tonight I sat at the patio table with Abby as she circled everything in the Sears Wish Book. And I mean literally everything. As we discussed how awesome it would be if she had a toy vacuum cleaner and a sewing machine Maya was toddling around busying herself with a golf club and an over sized ball. Naturally she became bored with that rather quickly and decided to join us at the table. I knew she was climbing up on the bench beside me, but my attention was on Abby and our conversation which had moved on to how having a Cher Barbie doll was a necessity. Still somewhere in the back of my mind I knew Maya was in trouble. By the time I turned my head to check on her she had fallen backward off the bench, some how missing the deck entirely and landing on the grass which is about as hard as concrete right now.

One look at her and I could tell her teeth and lips had met in a most unfortunate way. Her bottom lip was already swelling and blood was streaming from her mouth. Gasping I snatched her up from the ground and raced for the house while Abby stood on the bench shouting "Maya's bleeding! Maya's bleeding!" for the entire neighbourhood to hear. The three of us burst in to the house scaring the crap out of Mike, what with all the crying and the bleeding.

We managed to get the bleeding to stop in a relatively short amount of time. At which time we could assess the damage, two tooth shaped punctures in her bottom lip. There are also a few red marks on her back which may or may not turn into bruises. Luckily her blanky, a bottle of cold milk and a snuggle with Mommy was all it took to make her little world right again. As for me, I took a little longer to get over the trauma, but then Mommies usually do.

it would be easier with an instruction manual

There are some days that really test you as a parent. Days where you can't help but put your head in your hands and cry. Days that your Mom will give you a hug for support and whisper, I'd like to tell you that it gets better, but it doesn't. Days that you're just happy to see the end of.

Last week Abby was having a hard time when it came to leaving the house. She didn't want to. At all. For anything. She has always really loved to go to the sitter's, but starting last week she would cry and refuse to get up or dressed. At five she is well past the point that I can easily pick her up and put her in the van in her jammies and let Lyn sort her out when she's feeling a bit more human like. Now at first I attributed the problem to Mike and I being on holidays the previous week. She had gotten used to sleeping in and having us around. Figured in a day or two she'd settle back down. Then it progressed to us leaving the house for anything. Last night she had a fit as we tried to get ready to meet our friends for dinner. Of course at the end of the night she didn't want to come home. Just like she doesn't want to come home from the sitter's house either. So she has a great time while we're out, it's just trying to get her out of the house.

Last night Auntie Yoli had asked if both girls would like to accompany her to a family birthday party. Abby answered yes right away and was very excited to go. She spent part of the morning drawing a picture as a gift to take with her. Comes time to get ready to actually leave the house and it all starts to fall apart. For starters she is in her play clothes and is absolutely refusing to get changed. Normally I try not to make a big stink about clothes, Abby has a pretty definite opinion about what she'd like to wear and I usually let it go, within reason, but folks there was no way she was going to a birthday party in a shirt liberally covered with marker swipes and pants that not only didn't match, but were more than a titch too small. Okay for kicking around the house, but not for going out. She was even welcome to pick out a new outfit herself. I was basically just requesting something that fit and was clean. That's when the crying began which quickly escalated to screaming.

I. DON'T. WANT. TO. LEAVE!!

I tried to calmly work out with her exactly what the problem was, but that train was going nowhere fast. So I decided to give her what she'd asked for and Mike called Auntie Yoli and canceled the plans. Well if I thought it was rough going before, that was nothing compared to what was to come once she heard she wasn't going anywhere with Auntie Yoli. Hysterical would be a fair assessment. I tried all the tricks in my arsenal; I sat with her, I attempted to "talk her down", I let lay with her while she cried, I left the room, I came back in, nothing was working on this situation. There was door slamming (her), yelling & screaming (her), crying (her and I and Maya, but I think that's because everyone else was), coughing (her), almost vomiting (her) and so on. I'm sure you get the idea. I thought I was handling it pretty well. Just riding out the storm, trying to anticipate what she needed from me. Then after leaving the room for a break to keep my wits about me I returned to find she had not only stripped her bed and herself, but had managed to shove her mattress off the bed. That would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

I managed to wedge my way into her room, not easy with a mattress shoved up against the door and brought her into our room. I sat her on the corner of our bed with strict instructions not to move a single muscle. I then retreated to Maya's room and cried because folks I was at the end of my rope. My last shred of patience was gone. I wanted to yell or shake her or both. I think we must have been separated like that for about 5 minutes. Mike had sensed this was the time to intervene, but it was already starting to wind down. I think my crying had taken the wind out of her sails. It was around then my Mom showed up and sat with us while the "situation" finally ran out it's course. In the end I had both girls in my lap, Abby crying on my shoulder, me weeping into her hair and Maya just not wanting to miss out on any hugs that were being passed out, soggy ones or not.

I am at a loss to figure out what is happening here. To suddenly not want to leave the house is very un-Abby-like behaviour. Little Miss Social Butterfly is she. And she still is, nothing has changed about her behaviour once we are out of the house. And she still loves to play outside wither by herself our with her little friends in the neighbourhood. It's just the act of getting ready to leave the house. That's where the problem lies. I mean there is an argument for this being all genetics. Michael is a notorious homebody. So who knows. With Maya and Mike off for a nap Abby and I spend a quiet afternoon watching cartoons with my Mom. She did request to go off and play with her friends, but I said a quiet afternoon was a better idea. The evening came with an invitation for Abby to watch Papa play ball. Abby accepted and Mike and I waited to see how it would go down when it was time to go. Without hesitation she ran upstairs and changed out of her sundress and into a more appropriate outfit and skipped out the door without a backward glance. Tomorrow morning she starts Vacation Bible School, so we'll see what happens there. I'm hoping that this afternoon we crossed the bridge because it goes without saying that I feel horrible about this afternoon. I hate to lose my patience as much as I hate getting angry with her and myself. Makes me feel like a pretty crappy Mom, which I'm not, but still.

Today am I ever glad to see the end of you. Better luck tomorrow.

She was here a second ago.

Sometimes with small children it's just easier to stay home. All your stuff is there. All their stuff is there. All those wonderful child raising inventions that weren't necessary even thirty years ago, but we're so dependent upon today are there. Of course the problem with staying home all the time, is well, staying home all the time, but also you get a bit lazy. Or at least I do. So what if the kids don't get out of their jammies until two in the afternoon. Who is that hurting? Plus it's hard to force them when I'm still in mine. And maybe dinner will be dry Cheerios eaten with a measuring spoon with a yogurt chaser? That's okay, right? Then there are things I can be lazy about that really come back to bite me in the ass later.

Friday night we had tickets to the ham supper at the church. As luck would have it we managed to score end of the table seats. Papa grabbed us a high chair for Maya and I plunked her in it and loaded the tray up with goldfish crackers and some dinner roll. Abby sat beside her sister and Mike on the other side of Abby. I sat across from Maya. Grandma Linda was working this dinner, but she did have some time to kill at the beginning of the meal which she did sitting talking to me. And I also sat talking to her. More importantly I sat facing her. Away from my daughter. And you may have noticed I never mentioned that I had buckled her into the highchair.

After you've been a Mom for a while and especially as your kids get older you can tell what they need by the tone and pitch of their cry. There's a "I'm stuck cry", "I'm tired cry", I'm hungry cry", "pick me up cry" and the granddaddy of them all, the "I'm hurt/scared cry". So as I sat looking and talking to Grandma Linda Maya started her "I'm hurt/scared cry". My head immediately whipped back around to the highchair which was empty. EMPTY. As in she was no longer sitting in it. As in I could not see her from where I was sitting. She was not where I had left her. I jumped out of my seat as Maya continued to cry and heads started to turn and Papa came racing up the other side of the hall. I made a quick scan of the area and found her standing underneath the tray of the high chair, holding onto the foot rest. When none of us, and by none of us I mean me, were looking she slid right out of the bottom of the highchair. Luckily she landed on her feet, but it was hard to say who's heart was pounding more, but I'd lay money on mine.

So why didn't I buckle her in? Well it all goes back to that lazy thing I mentioned earlier. You see even though our highchair at home has a fancy three point harness I never rarely use it. I am lulled into a false sense of security by Maya's disinterest in trying to escape from her high chair and also the molded plastic post that resides between her legs making a bottom slip out, at home, damn near impossible. When she does want to get out she will arch her body against the tray which is what I'm assuming she was doing Friday night. Just this time there was no plastic post to keep her from going anywhere. So yeah that Mom of the Year award, once again, I'm sure it's in the mail.