Eleven Years Today

Eleven years ago today, right at this moment, I was lying in a bathtub hooked up to a baby monitor with contractions coming every minute and lasting a minute. I had been in labour since the previous afternoon and no relief was in sight. After a totally uneventful pregnancy, where I felt better than ever, it had all come down to these moments.

In the end, after 30 hours, no dilation at all and my baby's heart rate dropping drastically, I was rushed to an emergency c-section. There was a bit of a struggle to get her out since she was wedged in so tightly, but soon I'd be met with her strong cries.

After one look into her little familiar face, I was smitten. Oh, not just a little. I had never felt what I felt in that moment. The surety that I would lay down my life at any given moment if it meant saving hers. The need to protect and nurture so overwhelming it would clutch at my heart and throat with an insistence that still persists to this day.

Her grey eyes projected a wisdom that I had never seen in a baby, belying an older soul within. I knew that despite how tiny and fragile, she had an inner fortitude I would never match. In the days and weeks to come, I would learn how her strength and resilience had served her well in the birthing process. She had succumbed to some bruising and battering, but also a fractured skull.

Those first few months found me obsessively plotting times of feedings and diapers, amounts of bottles and moods. I would sit up in a dimly lit room and stare into her beautiful face, lost in the grace and overwhelming love embodied in this one little individual. I felt a sense of guilt for having failed her in the birthing process, and battled myself to remain composed. I swore to her that I'd do better, be better, keep her safe from herein.

As the days grew into months and years, my heart grew to proportions I didn't know could exist. To say she was my everything, is to minimize what she was to me. Rather, is to me. I kept her as close as possible to me, sharing a family bed and entrusting her care on the odd occasion to only a select few. When I had to part with her at those times, her caregivers were met with pages long manifestos regarding the do's and don'ts of her daily routine. However scared and hovering I may have been, there was no real need. She, in nature, wasn't the risk taking kind of child. At play dates, she would amuse herself quietly and gently. She never threw or banged or crashed. She never ran around someone's home screaming and shouting. If battles of will broke out within her playmates, she would quietly move away from the melee. She listened well, rarely needed discipline and thrived on learning. To state that she was an "easy" child is a gross understatement. Yes, I am blessed.

To this day, she remains a gentle girl, yet with a strong will when it comes to the rights and justices of others. If required, she will fight tooth and nail for what she feels is "right" or "fair." She is the type of girl that will spend hours engrossed in a book, or working away at a charcoal or pastel drawing in her room. She is very sociable and friendly, still choosing to walk away from confrontation and strife. She doesn't have a competitive bone in her body, which makes her an easy playmate for those who need to be the "best." She doesn't like taking the ball when playing soccer, but she'll outrun you to get it and down the field. On the stage, watching her dance, is to see her in her true element. She doesn't just perform the steps, she BECOMES the piece. Everything about her movements and facial expressions reflects the mood and setting. She's graceful without trying, elegant without pause. She feels strongly and when the odd occasion arises where she loses her cool, she's also quick to apologize and ask for forgiveness. Of course, with her track record, I'm quick to forgive.

Here we are, eleven years later, standing on the precipice of the teenage years and the difficult life lessons to come. When I look into those knowing grey eyes, I can revert easily back to that small room, rocking in a chair, sniffing her hair,hugging her to my chest and whispering promises. She's grown and shared and it's been a true pleasure to watch that evolution. I can't help but feel that though I'm the Mom and she learns from me, the opposite is exponentially true. I have learned more from my time as her Mother than anything I gleaned before our relationship bloomed.

Her birth into my life brought colour and light, laughter and tears. Mostly though, it brought a hope for the future and a love that outshines anything else I have ever known or ever will. The next year may bring surprises and changes and difficulties, but my promise to her remains steadfast. I have a feeling that she has much more to show me along the way.

To my grey eyed Angel Face on this day of your birth..................I wish you many more, and I want you to know how enriched and blessed I am by your presence in my life, daily.

Happy Birthday, my love. XO

Busy Summer Days...

I can't believe that school has ended and summer has crept up on me so stealthily. It seems to me it was May just a blink of an eye ago. Most years, I'm the nerd who is more than ready for that last day of school. I have gifts bought in advance, camps registered and paid for, and my calendar filled with plans and vacation weeks.

This year, I've dropped the proverbial beach ball.

Last week, I realized it was the last week of school and I hadn't bought teacher or bus driver gifts yet. So, out I went on Tuesday night with the last day of school here being Thursday. Oops. I managed to snag some great stuff, so all was right in my world, but somehow it left me feeling a little jittery and not my self.

Hello, that's because my daughter's 11th birthday party hadn't been planned either!!!! For someone who is slightly Type A and an organizational freak-this didn't bode well. Luckily for me, she wanted a simple sleepover. Unluckily for her, I'm an organizational nerd and you can't "just" have a sleepover! We got some great ideas from friends and the net, and we developed a theme of "Welcome to Italy!" We made gift bags in biscotti tins with Italian candies, jewellery, a candle holder with battery operated tea light and each girl decorated a clay pot and planted a basil plant. We had lasagna and garlic bread with Caesar salad for dinner, served on a red tablecloth with plastic wine glasses. The girls drank sparkling apple juice to pretend. My daughter had printed up "Italian" names for each girl as place cards. Everything went well, and she had a great time. Again, however, I wondered what was going on with me and the not being on top of things deal.

This week, I'm back to my normal daycare kids. The little guy I was watching was finished on Friday, since both of his parents are teachers he's home for the summer. Tomorrow, we're doing our family birthday celebration on my daughter's actual day and we'll give her gifts from us then. Guess what? I have to go out tonight and buy them!!!! What the?

I'm hoping that I'll get into the swing of things once this week is over and I'm settled back into a normal schedule and routine.

My family better hope so, because their Dad as "planner" is a disaster in the making!!! I hope this is just a little "summer mind" thing I have going on and I'm back to my anal, list making self soon!

Stubborn For No Real Reason

I have this personality trait, I don't know that it's a good thing or a bad thing, really. It just is. It spills out into other areas of my life as well, but today we'll just discuss the comical ways it manifests.

I'm stubborn about liking things that other people like. Nuts, right?

Let's start with Crocs. When they first came out, everybody and their dog went and bought a pair. Me? I'll never own them. It's not that I don't see the reason why people like them, or don't feel slightly drawn to some of the funky colours. Nope. It's pure stubbornness. I refuse to own a pair because "everyone else has them."

I'm not like that with everything, though. I own lots of things that are the "latest" fad. Despite the media and fashion outlets saying that Uggs are hideous and no one should wear them, I will. I like them and the way they look. So, there.

I just get it into my head about an article or movie or singer, or whatever it may be, and that's that. I will never cave on it.

If someone tells me that "everyone" loves a certain movie, (ie Alice In Wonderland) I'll see it, but with disdain already in my heart. The same goes with music. Alternately, I heard "everyone" hated Sex And The City. So, of course, I had to like it.

I don't know what this says about me, on a psychological level, and like I said, it's not about everything. I seem to select when this stubborn will comes in to play randomly.

It's also not like I'm some big anarchist or a "rage against the man" type. I've never been "out there" fashion wise and doing my own thing. I'm pretty casual and "whatever" about most things.

Yet, here I am sitting in judgement about not wanting to conform or join the group for other things. Weird.

Just to make your life complete, here are some of the random things I've taken a stand against.

-Crocs
-Kameleon Jewellery
-Willow Tree Figurines
-Sex And The City movies
-The Office
-Living in a certain neighbourhood where everyone I know lives. Though-I'll probably give in on this one if it makes sense
-Alice in Wonderland
-Many, many books
-Twilight series. I've seen the movies (total garbage) and read the books (juvenile, at best)
-True Blood (ANOTHER vampire series? Geeze. When will this craze be done?)
-Jersey Shore
-Nicholas Sparks and Jodi Picoult-I don't like writers to write the same "format" every time and expect me to be manipulated into crying. Not gonna happen, here. I fell for them for awhile but then decided I was done. DONE I SAY!
-Gladiator sandals. The things are hideous, I don't care how "in" they were. They are clunky and manly looking. No thanks.

I could go on and on but I'd just be confirming your opinion of my crazy. Well, that, and the fact that I've now decided that blogging about this is on my list too. So you can't make me. I told ya-I don't cave!

Mind Control

Are you like me, and think that if you concentrate on something enough, you'll will it to happen?
Or am I just crazy? Wait, don't answer that.

It's this little game I play with myself. If I'm waiting for something to happen, or someone to call, I'll think about the person or situation with serious, deep, intense concentration. I may even repeat, "happen today, happen today, happen today" as I do so.

I'm waiting on news that will change much about my future plans, and I need an answer soon so that the many OTHER people waiting or needing clarification, can get their answer too. It's not in my control at all, but still, I need to know. Stat.

So, today. I'm putting all of my mind power and super duper deep thoughts directed right where I need them to be. My mind is actually crazy persuasive, and part of the reason I do this little trick is because it's worked in the past.

Hmm. Maybe I AM just crazy. Oh well. It's still worth a shot.

Outdoor Play Time

When we moved to our new small town home, there were many things I had to grow accustomed to, and many new ways of doing things. While in some ways it felt like going back in time, I've now grown to appreciate that time warp.

My kids have always played outside, of course, but always for a metered amount of time. That time was often based on how long "I" wanted to stand out there with them. Here, it's a whole new ballgame.

I realized over the weekend that my kids are outside playing with friends for most of the entire day. They get up, eat breakfast, throw on clothes and are gone. Yesterday, being Father's Day, we took a stroll with the pup along the waterfront. We stopped to play on a jungle gym for awhile too. Once home, we ate a quick lunch, and back out they went. They had already been out in the morning with their friends, as well.

They biked, skipped, did skip-it. They played in a plastic pool full of water with their Barbie's. My eldest practiced on her new skateboard.(okay, I admit, so did I!) They were literally outside from 10am to 5pm, with stops inside to use the bathroom, grab a toy, or a snack.

After dinner and baths and books, they both zonked out immediately. Is it any wonder???

Here, they have much more freedom than they did back home. I don't know if that's their ages now, being older, or that small town life has adopted us to it's ways. Kids here remind me of when I was growing up. You told your parents where you were going, and then you were gone.

I love that my girls are enjoying being outside, using their imaginations to create new fun, and getting lots of exercise and fresh air. I'm probably getting more than I did back when, as well. Though, I do have to admit that our old neighbourhood, at one time, was pretty darn fantastic for this in it's heyday. I never thought I'd be able to replicate that, but here, we have. Parents are out on lawn chairs chatting for hours, while kids play all around.

I hope wherever we find ourselves next, we are just as lucky in neighbourhood choice and outdoor freedoms. I know we'd all hate to give that up when we've come to enjoy it so.

Dads Day

Today is Father's Day, and while we wait for our sleeping daddy to arise, I thought I'd put some words to umm, screen, and tell you a little about the kind of father he is, and how important that is to me.

Growing up, I didn't see my Dad very much. My parents divorced when I was 4, and even though my Dad lived downtown, (a mere 20 minutes or so from where I lived in the 'burbs) he didn't really play an active role in my life. I would say we saw him "maybe" three times a year or so. He didn't call very often either. I know my Dad loves me and my siblings in his own way, but it's taken me pretty much from then til a few years back to realize that and come to terms with it. I would invite him to stuff I did at school, awards I received, or even my graduation. He always had a reason he couldn't attend, and as a kid, that stung.

You can probably surmise, then, that it was very important to me that I marry a guy who was going to be a super hands-on Dad. I judged a lot of my boyfriends based on how they interacted with my then young niece. When I introduced my "new" boyfriend to her, he was immediately smitten with her. As we got more serious, he got more serious about being a positive male role model in her life-as her father was in and out of the picture. We ended up moving in with my sister at that time, and my husband would get up early to let my sister sleep in, dress my niece up and throw her in a ball cap, and take her to the park for hours. We took her camping with us, and anywhere else that taking a kid was acceptable. We went to shows, museums, heck even the doctor for an ear infection! My sister worked shift work, so we got to spend a lot of time with my niece watching her grow. I knew this guy was a keeper. He loved my niece as much as I did and it wasn't just an act to score points. We were in our early 20's then, and hanging out with a two year old wasn't every one's idea of a good time. We never felt like it cramped our style. Granted, we could always just hand her back to her Mom at the end of the day! Sweet deal!


Many years later, and with wedding bands on our fingers and stars in our eyes, we decided to start our own family. We were blessed with two beautiful daughters. From day 1, my husband has been right there beside me for every step of this parenting journey. While my friends' husbands had never done the bath, or cut a nail, nor had even got up in the night with a crying baby, there he was. Since I didn't breastfeed, we split the nighttime bottles from the get-go. I would go to bed a bit earlier, and he'd do the bottle around 11pm. I'd do the middle of the night, and he'd do the early morning before getting ready for work. He cut nails, got them dressed, took on "bath night," gave first foods and lulled to sleep. He changed the first diapers too-I have never even seen that messy, sticky first poop. I had c-sections for both girls so he took over right away.

Here we now are with a 10 year old and a 6 year old. My husband has been the Dad going on field trips and never missing special events in their classes. He talks openly about whatever topic the girls come to him with-even the taboo "puberty" questions from my oldest. I'm thrilled she is even comfortable talking to her Dad about that stuff. He's the one they go to for their manicures and pedicures, because he uses a toothpick to draw flowers and hearts and rainbows. He's endured them putting crowns, pony tails and barrettes in his hair. I'm pretty sure he's even been their model for makeup testing too. He dances with them, brushes their hair and makes sure they get dressed in the morning. He is the one that makes their breakfast, while I struggle to peel my eyes open and start the day. He chauffeurs them to classes and parties and sleepovers, most days just taking it all in stride.

My husband has been the Dad to my girls that I've always wanted for myself. I'm so pleased to watch them interact and to see the love and total confidence in those exchanges. I try to impart to the girls how blessed they are to have the father they do, and I hope as they age that they realize just how lucky they've been.

We don't all get to have the parents we hope for or need, but my husband has been the epitome of what a Dad stands for since the beginning, and in so doing has let me live vicariously through my daughters.

Happy Father's Day.

May I Have This Dance?

Today, my grade 5 girl is attending her first school dance. They are having it during school hours, but it's still a big deal. To her. To me. She even has a little boyfriend, who emails her things like, "School is boring to me without you here" when she's sick.

We went out last night on the search for a new dress. She wanted to hit Aeropostale first to see what they had. For all those women who fit an XS, well, that's just nuts. My daughter is a tiny girl. She's 60 lbs and petite for her age. The XS is just "that" much too big for her. I could have sewed up the straps a bit, but I figured we'd keep looking.

We continued on our search, and 15 dresses later, found "the one." It's a silvery sheath with sparkly flowers on the bottom. We also got her some matching silver sandals. She has jewellery and we curled her hair this morning. Sigh. She looked beautiful.

As I was dragging my butt from store to store, after an already too long day on little sleep, I realized that all too soon I'd be doing this for two girls. My husband and I clearly did not plan their age spacing very well. I thought I was so prepared, I researched psychological data that stated the "perfect" age range between siblings. You think I'm joking, but I'm not. Anyone who truly knows me, knows what an anal, detailed person I am. However, it struck me last night that as my youngest is going to her Grade 8 grad, my eldest will be graduating from high school. I may as well take out a second mortgage right now.

We took a few photos of her hair and makeup this morning, but they have to stay in their street clothes until the dance time. When she gets home tonight, I'll take a few more of the whole get up. I hope the pictures turn out okay, because I know I won't be able to see through the lens very clearly due to the film of tears that will be clouding my eyes.