Category Archives: Florida

Monday Recap (now with more urine!)

Just about 2 more weeks left before I return to work and I have to admit that after Monday, right around 8:30 in the morning, I was positively longing for it. Mostly because there were people there that I could effectively communicate with. Most of the time, that is. And even if I did have to deal with cranky patients all day, surely that would be better than what I had just gone through.

I’m sure you are curious. Let me just say it involves urine. And a lot of it. If you aren’t that interested in reading about pee then I suggest you stop now. Because pretty much that’s what this whole post is about…

My son is a bit of a handful, to say the least. And upon reflection, that really might be all boys/girls/children right on the cusp of 4. I am pretty sure I’ve talked about this before, sorry if it’s boring. But I know you parents out there with children around this age are sympathizing. And drinking.

Vince has A LOT of energy. And A LOT of drama. And a NEW BABY SISTER. And a MUMMY WHO NEEDS MORE SLEEP. And I do my very best to keep him entertained and engaged as the days pass. We do some crafts, some scissor skills things, practice tracing letters and numbers. We do regular outings to the library and used book stores. We do all sorts of stuff.

So I figured Monday was going to be something busy. You know, because I plan Monday on Monday morning. Except I woke up exhausted and could barely get out of bed. What was that all about? I have no idea. Somehow I managed to bribe Vince to snuggling in my bed and watching Phineas and Ferb while Mummy slept. And then, once I was done that, take a shower. And it while I was taking that illicit shower that it began.

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Things not to do in public parks: A Guide

'Mummy! Daddy said I could!"

 

So today I assisted my son in committing a crime.

A crime of public urination.

I had no choice though, I had to assist him. He couldn’t get his pants off by himself. Oh, and we were 20 minutes away from the house on a walk and there (obviously) was no public bathroom nearby.

And this is how it all went down:

Vince: Mummy! I have to go pee! Can I go pee outside? Daddy said I could.

(interestingly, Daddy was nowhere to be seen, mainly because he was at work many many miles away… But I digress)

Me: Ummm….

Vince: Daddy said I could…(and this was the point where he started pulling down his pants while walking away from me, so clearly whatever Daddy says {whenever it was that he said it] goes)

Me: Um, ok. Well, let’s go over here, in the bushes.

And just to clarify, we were at a park a little bit from our house and there was NO way that we would make it back in time to not have an accident. And also, isn’t this just what men do anyways? Pee everywhere both in and out of doors? So this is training. Right?

So I led him over to this little copse of trees by the lake and helped him get his pants down and he let it go. His pants had to go down all the way of course, so there just was no way at all we could even pretend to be discreet about the whole thing

All I could think about was that every single person in the neighbourhood was, right at this very moment, standing at their living room window with their faces pointed in exactly our direction. Judging us. Even that squirrel was judging us, judging us with his beady squirrel eyes…(also, I cannot spell squirrel to save my life). I honestly thought I was going to get some irate person barreling down the park sidewalk to harangue me about my public behavior. I was judging me too, if that makes you feel any better. I’d never done anything like this before.

Ok, let me clarify…. I’VE done things like this before, but that was when I was much, much, much younger. And silly. And probably camping or something. Or drinking. Or whatever, anyways… the point is that I’d never done this with my son before. I kept wondering things like “Gosh, I wish he didn’t pull his pants all the way down to his ankles. At least if he just pulled them down a teeny bit, we could be more discreet.” and “How on earth did he not go before we left the house?” and finally “Where is he keeping all that pee?! It’s a floodgate!”

Of course, the whole time he was saying things like “Daddy said I could” and “Daddy says it’s OK”.

Oh! I get it! It’s a new stage! Aha!

I discussed this with Edward later and he agreed that Vince was busting out the ‘Mummy says it’s OK’ with him too. And Edward, being Edward, believed him. Lesson: Don’t believe the majority of what your almost 4 year old tells you. Because he has learned to lie and he will lie through his teeth. Endlessly and forever. About everything.

But also he told me that he’d let Vince pee outside before when they were at that park. So Vince was, in a way, telling the truth. He just neglected to mention that Daddy had said it was OK quite awhile ago. And hadn’t said it since. To my knowledge anyways. And I am not even sure if I want to know that answer. I think I’ll leave it between the guys… (like penis cleaning, that’s the kind of thing I don’t really want to be involved in. Just about as much as Edward wants to be in cleaning his daughter’s ‘bits’)

Anyways, he didn’t have an accident in his pants so as far as I’m concerned it was a win!

xoxo a.m.

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How I am still alive: A tale of survival and bleeding

I am WAY better behaved than my brother. Swear.

I’m almost through my second week of sahm-ness and for the most part, I seem to still be alive. And, by a surprising coincidence, my son is as well. (Eleanor is, of course, completely perfect and no trouble at all). While still alive, I am worn out.

While feeding Eleanor again… (and I say again, because all I did yesterday afternoon was feed her. Constantly. From about noon to 5 pm and I am not even exaggerating) I noticed a funny discoloured spot on my shirt. Continue reading

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Timebomb: A tale of bowling and jealousy

Vince woke up this morning with one thought on his mind.

Bowling.

I know right? I was thinking the same thing… What on earth??! It’s completely the fault of Scooby Doo. Or actually, my fault since I bought a few ridiculous Scooby Doo books for Vince (don’t do it!!). Books which apparently featured bowling enough that I had to explain it and since then he’s been fascinated. He’s reminded  me that I had mentioned we could go at some point.He asked again yesterday and I thought why the heck not? Sure! Let’s go bowling on Friday morning. Continue reading

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Moving forward

I am pleased to report that there have been no further poocidences since last weekend, I’m happy to move forward and to stop talking about it for as long as possible. Or at least until something awful happens again and I feel the need to share it with everyone.

And so, on that note, moving on! Continue reading

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Please save us from poo…

Image

Yup, that's pretty much how I felt about it too...

So yesterday morning started off on a good note. It was the last day of Spring Break for Edward and we had a family day planned. Vince was not going to daycare and we were all going to try and sleep just a little later than we normally do, you know, for fun.

Edward and I woke up to Eleanor’s noisy morning cries and I busied myself with feeding her. Edward interjected just before I got started with “Did you want me to feed her and you handle Vince? Or what’s the easiest for you?’ (Bless him, he’s trying to help). I shook my head no and indicated that I would prefer him to handle Vince. Total non-verbal communication-style. Yup, that’s how good our marriage is. I grunt and he translates that to complete sentences and vice versa… Continue reading

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Reflections

One week ago, Miss Eleanor Marie was born. It was a Monday afternoon, right around that time in the afternoon when you are winding down the work day. We were winding it up, man. That’s just how Edward and I roll…

As I sit here on my bed in my quiet, clean bedroom with Eleanor rocking away next to me, in the throes of a milk-induced coma, it’s interesting to reflect on how my life has changed in such a short time.

To be honest, it was very hard to realize the enormity of baby number 2. I mean, we knew she was coming, there was no doubt. She was in there, she had to come out sometime. We were even given a date as to when that would be. And when that date arrived, even when we were all checked in to the hospital and being ushered by the sweetest nurse into the birthing suite where she was going to be born. Even to the point where I was naked and putting on a hospital robe. And even when she arrived, when she was physically in this world and not in me anymore, her impact was still hard to actualize.

It wasn’t until we left the bubble of the hospital and hit the reality of our little home that we understood her impact.

I believe it’s the kind of thing there is no way to really prepare for.

*sigh* Best. Feeling. Ever.

But huge changes. Huge changes for Vincent, change that’s pushing him to make bigger boy steps, maybe ones neither of us were ready for yet. We have no choice though and Vince is now firmly on that path from ‘my baby’ to ‘my child’. My son. It’s hard to articulate… He’s growing up and it’s kind of hard for me to see. However, you know that old adage ‘That’s life’, and that is indeed it in a nutshell.

But all seriousness aside, this second baby business? Piece of cake. Piece. Of. Cake.

No really. I mean it. I’ve already been through the wringer with Vince, so pretty much nothing fazes me now. Only difference? More vagina. Yup, that’s about it. And let me say, it’s a little easier to deal with. Apart from not knowing where random pee will be directed (at least with Vince we could dodge…), I’m familiar with the territory. Yes, it’s true. I have one too.

Anyways, small volcanic eruption in our household and things are settling down to normal. Slowly settling, with some hiccups to be anticipated. I feel almost normal and apart from a few lingering reminders of last Mondays events (like that one foot that’s still a bit swollen, oh and Eleanor of course), it’s like she was always here…

much love xoxo a.m.

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Where I learn that I am old

How I learned that I was old.

In a stunning twist of events, Vince slept over at his Grandparents last Friday night and Edward and I had the night to ourselves…

We were nervous and/or baffled. Nervous about receiving late-night phonecalls from his parents about how we needed to come and pick V up. And baffled because neither of us could remember the last time we had slept alone in our house together. I believe it was in 2008.

And I should add that we really had no idea what to do with this precious blip of time. (Please remember that I am a million years pregnant and if you were thinking that a ‘sexy’ suggestion would be obvious, be reminded that the only thing I am having an intimate relationship with these days  is my body pillow)

We’d gotten a tip that there was this cool pub that served Vegan food near the city and thought we’d start there. Who doesn’t like a cool pub?! And one that serves vegan food? Clearly this was a pub that was right up our alley. The tip included that the food was super. And since Edward and I are becoming increasingly old and decrepit, the idea of checking something new out was both daunting and exhilarating. Just the ticket for a Friday night.

We cruised into the parking lot. I waddled into the pub with husband in tow. We were seated and ordered drinks. And then I had this conversation with the (very young) waitress.

J: “I’ll have a coke.’

VYW: “Did you want ice for that? It does come in a bottle, you know…”

J: “A bottle? Great! Nope, I don’t need ice.”

And then she brought me a plastic bottle of soda. Classic case of misunderstanding. And also why did I assume the soda was going to come in a glass bottle? Because I’m old? Quite possibly.

It was still pretty early for a Friday night, Edward ordered a beer and we got some deep-fried pickles. And slowly the cool kids arrived. And then suddenly the whole place was packed with hipsters. Edward texted me, from across the table, the following:

“Everyone here is so hip.”

“Except for us.”

“Are we in Portland?”

I think we might have been. Or I was back in Victoria (BC that is), circa 1999 or 2000 and a University student again? The pub was packed with people in oversized glasses, men with scarves, skinny jeans, tattoos and very earnest looking conversations. Everywhere we turned there was another onslaught of pretty, disheveled girls paired with men wearing plaid and dark glasses. In boating shoes. With no socks on.

Man, we were clearly out of our league. It was almost enough to want to make you chant “One of us. One of us.” and then lean in and try to join a conversation about the challenges of composting in an apartment complex.

Ok, I’ll stop. Honestly it was a great place to grab a bite and hang out. It just happened to make me feel ancient and extremely uncool. Whatever, suck it up Jaime. You are approaching old and have never been cool. I’m rather comfortable with that now in any case, must have been the hormones acting up…

I have this feeling that this is something I should be getting used to. Or at least that Edward and I should attempt these hawt nights out at a place more our pace like  Cracker Barrel. Or maybe that we should make sure to be in the company of other people that could at least rub a thin veneer of ‘hip’ off on us that would make our entrance to this world a little smoother.

I keed, I keed… E and I totally don’t go to Cracker Barrel. Much.

xoxo a.m.

 

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Craft fail spectacular

Craft fail. That pretty much sums up my creative attempts Sunday…

I haven’t gotten my craft on in quite a while. It’s possible it might actually have been years since I crafted. What a horrible admission! Whats wrong with me? What have I been doing for the past few years?

Oh right. Playing playdough. Endlessly. (Can’t stand it either.) Mixing the colours literally makes me shudder. I honestly feel that you should play with each colour separately. And don’t ever combine them! Oh the horrors! Or at least combine them in a manner that allows them to be easily separated from one another, so you can put each one cleanly back in its container unsoiled.

God I’m a freak.

Anyways… Saturday night and Sunday morning I spent shaving crayons. ‘We’ were going to make crayon hearts and if you click the link on Saturdays blog from Martha Stewart, gosh do hers ever look pretty! The wax smelled lovely, like kindergarten. I had so much fun picking out various pinks and reds and purples and the shaved wax looked so pretty mixed together…

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I had this lovely container pretty full and then I went and got a pedicure. And then Vince went over to his Grandparents house for a visit. Alone. And Edward and I were home. ALONE. And I did laundry. Party.

And since Vince wasn’t around, I thought to myself ‘Perhaps I should do the ironing part, since a 3 1/2 year old really doesn’t need to be that close to a hot iron’. This was a really clever plan. And so I did and gosh it looked nice. The colours started to meld together just a little and it looked like stained glass. And I had a kindergarten flash-back, which sort of made for a lovely experience.

And then it melted a little more. And then I looked at it a little strangely, for it appeared to be taking on another form entirely. One that was not in any way related to Valentines Day, but perhaps a little more at home in a hospital. Or a morgue. In the middle of an autopsy perhaps. Or maybe a biopsy?

 

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Hmm, that looks sort of like a lung. Don’t worry, I cut out little hearts from it anyways and tied them up with red ribbon (’cause I’m fancy like that). And hung them up by my front door.

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Edward took one look at it and said something like “What the hell are those?!” And one of my friends almost snorted soda out of her nose when I flashed her a photo of my clever creation.

So clearly I need to get my mojo back. This was a craft fail on a HUGE scale. Although I guess if you wanted to put a positive spin on it, at least the hearts are cut out of material that genuinely looks like it is actually from a heart.

Don’t worry fret my pets… I’m sure I’ll find something else to make a mess of this coming weekend. I’ll be sure to actively include my child in craft creation this time, instead of hogging it all to myself…

xoxo a.m.

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Where I am a pain in my own ass and other ridiculousness

Mmmhmm, it’s Saturday night and hey guess what! I over-did it today! Probably I should get a high-five for that?

"I am very serious about my tools"

Even though I am 31.5 weeks pregnant, my brain seriously seems to shut down and think that I am not pregnant at all. And so I proceed with my Saturday like I normally would. So told it was Home Depot with friends for the free children’s workshop, then off for donuts, then over to BabysRus to register, then to Waterford Lakes to Barnes & Noble for a quick book look, then to the movies to see Alvin and the Chipmunks 3, back home to Lake Nona to hit the grocery store and finally home to make dinner, bathe the munchkin, do 2 loads of laundry and put Vince to bed.

Regular Saturday stuff. Usually this kind of thing is de rigueur for me. Edward working 7 days a week and the fact that he’s in the middle of a ‘marking papers’ marathon necessitates me keeping Vince busy and out of his hair.

But seriously, I’m a total dumbass. I was so worn out from life, work, toddlers etc that I could barely function on Friday at work and had to go home and sleep. I can’t walk fast anymore. I am in full on waddle mode. What the hell am I thinking?

Gah, I’m a pain in my own ass.

And the seriously funny thing is that I honestly was planning on doing crafts with Vince once I got home. So much so that I was actually shaving crayons in the kitchen while he was eating dinner in prep for some crafty business.

This is what we are planning on doing tomorrow. Thanks Martha Stewart! Crayon hearts are awesome, easy and will look lovely hanging in the window and maybe even Baby Girl’s bedroom? I’m mentally planning lots of Valentine’s day crafts with Vince this month.

Partially because we had the following ridiculous conversation about Valentine’s Day:

Me: “Valentine’s Day is a day where we tell our favorite people that we love them an extra lot and maybe we make them a special present too!”

V: “I like presents. I’m going to buy a present for ME! And it’s going to be GREEN! Like the pig from Angry Birds!”

M: “Hmm, well…”

V: “And then we are going to play Angry Birds. And then we are going to give Chewie an Angry Birds present! And Mummy, can I play the Angry Birds Seasons game on your phone? Now?”

M: “…..”

So clearly we need some more education regarding this made-up holiday. Which is what the month of January is going to be devoted to. And clearly I need to remove Angry Birds Seasons from my phone OR stop using it as a bribe while grocery shopping.

So tomorrows plans will be a little more laid-back than today’s. Because I am not a crazy person. And I still work full-time. And I need to make sure I squeeze a wee bit of rest into the day. I’m daydreaming about a pedicure right now…

I’m going to go and prop my belly up on a pillow in bed and watch something totally ridiculous on Hulu.

xoxo a.m.

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