Words that, perhaps, you shouldn’t call your son

This afternoon as I was getting ready for my lady date, Vince came running down the hallway and threw open my bedroom door.
Leaning against it, he started shouting at me…

I was shaving my legs. You know, that one time a week when I have someone to impress? That are ladies?
So in he runs, shouting something that frankly was rather hard to understand. By the third time he shouted it, I understood and then started to inwardly laugh…

Vincent: “Sweetie! Sweetie sweetie! Sweetie! SWEETIE!!!”

Mummy: “Ah…. Yes?”

Vince: “I did a big poo.”

Who knew that this was a ‘sweetie’ worthy conversation topic?

And guess what? That is totally all my fault.

‘Sweetie’ and ‘Babe and ‘Honey’ are all things that I regularly call Vince instead of his actual name. And clearly he thinks this is just things that people call one another. Which, technically, is true if you actually, physically live in my house.

Everyone has some other name, or no name, or a name plus an additional name. Like how the dog is “Chewie McBitersonton”. Or how Edward is, well, ‘Edward’. He’s just too formal. And a huge pain in my ass. And Vince, of course, has too many names to list.

About 2 weeks ago, Vince shouted “Honey!! HONEY!! HONEY!!!!!!”

Mummy: “WHAT!!!!!!!”

Vince: “Mummy, your my best fwen. I wuve you.”

Mummy: *heart melt* “Love you too baby…”

xoxo a.m.

Bits

How do you name a penis?

Tricky question, eh?

Thursday night, as we started our bath-time washing procedure, we encountered ‘the area’ a few minutes in. Boy Territory is something I tread a little gingerly, as I am not that familiar with it. Apart from the obvious familiarity of being married to a man.

I am teaching V to scrub-a-dub himself and so I shout out random (boy) parts while I foam-pump soap into his palms and watch with delight while he hurries to find and cover them with suds (I am assuming that something is being cleaned just with soap touching it).

So of course we hit the usual…

Arms!

Fingers!

Toes!

Tummy!

And then I shout things like “Scrub scrub scrub!” And “Wash wash wash!”

And at some point those hands wandered down ‘There’ and a damp face makes a mischevious little grin at me.

And then? I shouted “Wash your….. weewee!!”

What WHAT?

It’s OK. I feel your shock. I was in a pinch and that’s what came out. And as soon as it left my mouth, I turned red. Even though there was no-one else around to see or hear what I just said, apart from Vince…. who was currently clutching those ‘bits’ and saying “Weeeeeee we. WeeeWeeeeeee! WeWe!”

Crap.

What did I just create.

And crap. What do you call those bits?!

I mean, I call them ‘bits’. To the general public that is. Not that it’s something that I am generally announcing to people. But when I am, that’s how I announce them.

Edward?! Where are you?! I need you for these situations! So get off your Fantasy football calculator thingy and come upstairs and clean your son’s penis!

… is what I would like to shout, but don’t. I just hold it all in. Like the proud British-Canadian that I am…

Well, tonight we had tub-time again. And Edward was in Philly and therefore was not around for assistance. But no matter, V got there before I could and started scrubbing away at various parts to much applauding, finally getting to the ‘bits and then looking up at me before he did anything.

Vince!! Wash your ‘peepee’!”

Ok, at least this was slightly better than ‘weewee’. Geez.

I really have no idea where to go with this one. I am thinking I might just stick to ‘bits’ and that suits my sensibilities just fine.

Any suggestions?

xoxo a.m.

Touch

Some may say that it is an easy moment to remember, that moment when they became a mother. And for most, I would think it is fairly obvious.

“I gave birth to a child, hence motherhood”.

Thanks, Captain Obvious, for that. I don’t think I could have figured it out.

Or maybe, it’s that firm attachment to your pet. We started off with a dog, before progressing on to human motherhood. I am that little dog’s mother. Whether he likes it or not. Especially when he is peeing in places he shouldn’t. Which is all the time. Then I am one of those ‘Mummy-Monsters’.

Or maybe it is that first time your little person gets really sick. It’s like those mothering feelings just erupt out of you, you know exactly what to do.

Motherhood changes you, even if you don’t notice. It makes you less tolerant of your sick husband (partner). Sorry honey!! Must cook baby dinner/do baby laundry/wash baby/read to baby/etc etc etc. That little man has reached a much higher level of awesomeness than you. And will stay at that level. FOREVER. So no more asking for egg on toast.

I digress…

Motherhood is this total mystical, spiritual, wellspring of eternal knowledge, ‘I am all knowing’, freakin’ crazy amazing thing.

Right now, my own mother is visiting me. And she is sick.

As a new mother, here are the things I can’t help but do:

1) an ever present glass of water

2) ‘The best question ever… “Is there anything you need??”

3) Speak in a soothing voice

4) Sway back and forth. By myself. On a separate surface than she…

5) Look worried and impose that worry on everyone else.

6) “Would you like some tea???”

It is really amazing how much stereotypical ‘mom’ came out of my mouth during my conversation with  my sick mother in her darkened bedroom.

I stood up from the bed, bent over and kissed her on the forehead, while my free hand soothingly stroked her brow and automatically tucked her hair back. Apparently this is something I have been doing for my whole life, that is how casual it felt.

What was this!?!? This automatic gesture? Where did this come from? Was it in the manual?

No, my sweet mothers, it is just motherhood. We all have it, whether we use it on our dogs, cats or delicious babies. But how funny to use it on your own dearest mother.

Dearest Mother, please get better….

xoxo a.m.

Beebee

Day by day, Little Man’s vocab is on the rise and it is truly an interesting thing to hear and help grow.

We are a big book family. I have these memories of going to the Library with my Mum when I was little  and taking out heaps and heaps of books. And then losing them around the house. And then swearing that I returned them. And then (when I was little) finding them at the bottom of the pile of papers for the fireplace (whew! Close call!).

And more embarrassing memories of being older, having Mum raid my room and taking actual laundry baskets full of books back to our local branch.

Oh god. How embarrassing that was. I might have cried all the way there in the car, ignoring the baskets in the back seat.

M used to read voraciously in bed. Whenever he didn’t know a word, he would shout it down the hall to his parents like so…

“Mom!!!!!”

(faintly) “What?”

“What’s a jockstrap??”

Loud laughter, some snorting and possible tears and no answer.

“Mom?! What’s so funny!! I don’t get it!!”

See? We are big nerds.

Anyways, I repeat words as often as possible, hoping that they will take.  Maybe 40 % of the time he repeats what I say and those little words are the sweetest things I have ever heard.

2 nights ago I coaxed him into saying ‘Night Night!” Although it sounded more like “Naa Naat!”

Dogs say either “Ffffffffft” or “Whoooooooo”.

Cats have just started saying “Meemeemmeeeee”

A baby bird says “Beebeebee”.

Lions say “AHHHHHHHHHRR!!”

And Chewie the chihuahua is now called “Zheeeeeweeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!”. He responds. That’s all that matters.

Books are his favorite things to play with right now and I think that is amazing. Awesome. Wonderful.

Each of these little words took a lot of careful and gentle repeating from Mummy.

Our big breakthrough was Saturday. While shopping at Target and walking throught the TV department, V was totally smitten with a cat he saw in a commercial. He pointed and asked, repeatedly, “Issat?! Issat!!!”.

“It’s a cat, honey. A cat says “MeowMeow”. And so we walked and I meowed and we did this all through the store. Mostly absent-mindedly on my part. Although these days, I absent-mindedly make a lot of very random noises while I am shopping with the Little Man.

“Meeemmeemeeemeemeee”, says the cat.

xoxo a.m.

Bastard

Post-Winter Break, V is back at daycare fulltime.

This week has been a wee bit of a rough re-transition for us all. Everyone back up at 5:30 am (instead of the glorious, heavenly and luxurious 6:30 am).  Of course at least one member of our household has to be sick at a time, this time it’s M’s turn. And, of course, V and his continuous skin slash allergy issues.

This week, with the re-introduction of daycare, comes the reappearance of his dry, scaley skin. All over his fat little soft tummy, up under his plump little arms, at the top  of his chubby little bum-cheeks. The last time we saw this was at least 6 to 9 months ago and it was concentrated on his calves and forearms, with the occasional appearance on his cheeks.

Totally dietary.

Totally awful.

Totally itchy.

At home his wheat intake is controlled. Only organic or high-quality products are allowed. I lean mostly on Pamela’s and Annie’s, both of which are delicious (Pamela’s being Gluten-free and Annie’s being not only adorable but the perfect size for little fingers. And healthy as well as adorable).

School, well… that’s a little harder to control…

This afternoon, I received a call from V’s pediatrician regarding his recent repeat allergy testing. I have been  waiting with baited breath for these results. How different will they be from a year ago? Better? Less reactive? Perhaps showing no allergies at all?

It was an interesting combo of smiles and frowns.

Happy faces for a decrease in his peanut allergy! *high five*

Frowny faces for an increase in his wheat allergy. *down low*

And some wtf faces for a sudden Milk allergy.

Seriously. W.T.F.

Milk allergy? Motherfucker. Allergies, you can kiss my ass.

I was the most collected of all mothers while I was receiving this info from Dr E. I need this info, because I need to know. I need to know how to proceed.

We have been referred to an allergist and somehow, by the grace of the Allergy Gods (who are apparently smiling on us), we have an appointment for Monday afternoon.

I so welcome it as I pretty much an at a loss of how to process this new information. Complete loss. And earlier, on the way home in my car, a few lip biting moments, a little bit of lip quivering too and some rather heavy sighs.

How to process? How to process it all. How to manage. How. To. Manage.

Can I just say that allergies are a total bastard.

Total.

(Other total bastard? Click here…

Pause

So my parents are arriving in T-minus 28 days or so. And so I have 4 weeks to turn our office into a cosy room . I have been up on a ladder drinking wine like a mother f’er for a week, while I paint that damn room and its damn closet.

Since last Tuesday that has been my evenings plan. And M was working all of those nights, so I embraced it as busy time for Mummy.

Ladders and wine every evening ended up with late nights, every night this past week.

And Thursday and Friday as well.

M, working at that Disney restaurant he moonlights at, and after coming home at 3 am 3 nights in a row, finally got a break Friday night and called me around 11 pm. He was on his way home. Holy crap!

Filet mignon with pepper crust and gorgonzola dressing is what awaited him. As well as me, up a ladder in the closet. With a glass of wine.

Shortly after he arrived and got settled with dinner and a well deserved beer, V woke.

And it was a scary awakening. Screaming and thumping rained down on our living room ceiling. So much so that I actually went up and cuddled  that little man. And then brought him downstairs. And then regretted it when he perked up as soon as my foot him that last step on the stairs.

Big smile for Daddy and an immediate “Issat!” with a big pointy finger at the TV where Top Chef Season 5 was playing.

That  Little Man was a midnight blur of activity. He ran around the living room, dragging his little chair up to the coffee table and plunking his tush down.

“Mumma! Baba!!”, he demanded.

Yes sir. Into the kitchen I went to get him a bottle of milk and a little midnight snack of Cheerios.

He sat so nicely in his chair when he snacked down. About 2 minutes into midnight snack, he picked up his bottle and snack dish and walked over to Daddy.

“Dadda!’, he shouted imperiously.

M obligingly lifted him up onto his lap where he sat for about 20 minutes, snacking and watching Top Chef.

Mama! Da!”, he shouted again, pointing at his book with the duck on the front cover. M transferred him over to me, and we read about the duck and how it was looking for its mother.

It was such a random late night. We were so amused by the Little Man. And then after his story, I carried him up to bed and he went right to sleep.

While this may (mostly may not) be exciting to you… and by ‘you’ I mean my Mum. Thank you Mum for reading this regularly… for us, it was just the sweetest late night treat.

For M and his week of really late nights, it was a lovely V-treat.

For me, it was a deep sigh of contentment. I watched the two of them together and felt my heart just melt with love.  It feels like these days are moving so quickly that any little moment like this is a little pause and sigh.

So my friends…. pause and sigh at those sweet moments.

And speaking of sweet moments, I must admit that I am fascinated by the fact that the White House has a beekeeper. And beehives. And harvests its own honey, which they use in the White House kitchen.

Totally so admirable and so wish I could have one too. But I have this feeling that my neighbours (in their much smaller townhouse) would totally be pissed at the constant buzzing noises and non-stop dog-barking that would result from the constant buzzing.

So for now, I’ll just admire those WH clever-clogs. And check out this link to check out those sweet honey makers…

xoxo a.m.

Bastard blood

Sadly I am not allergic to any food.

While for some people this might be a wonderful thing to hear, for me? Not so great… I was totally expecting to find out that I had a wheat allergy too (just like V) and possibly some other hidden allergies lurking around in my system.

Bastard blood of mine!! I was expecting a lot out of you!

You were supposed to be the answer… I am looking for intel into V’s allergies. Any insight into the allergy situation would be awesome and currently I am focusing on me. As soon as I have made myself run the gamut, I’ll be putting M through his paces. Only fair!!

And so today I went through the intradermal allergy testing. Another interesting process. Small amounts of the allergen are injected just under the skin. In my case, 64 times. We then wait for everything to cook for 15 minutes and then measure the reaction on my skin.

Ding! 15 minutes later, we had our results. And they weren’t anything that exciting. Nothing earth-shattering or anything.

Funnily enough I am allergic to Maple tree pollen. And am Canadian. How disappointing. And so I now live in Florida and apparently am allergic to Orange tree pollen as well. What. The. Hell.

It make me kind of laugh though. From the land of the Maple tree to the land of the Orange tree, she is allergic to it all.

And allergic to dust-mites, a few other trees and 7 different types of mold. 7 for gods sake. Which, in hind sight, isn’t that surprising since I have a childhood allergy to penicillin that I apparently have passed on to V.

So while I didn’t learn that much about V’s particular food allergies and where they might have originated from, I did learn some interesting things about my own. Especially considering that I wasn’t aware of any of them.

So it looks like 2010 is going to start off, for me anyways, with an exciting ‘mold elimination’ diet. 3 months of a diet which basically has me eating nothing, as apparently all food is on this list, most condiments, all things pickled and vinegared  and lots of tomatoes. Oh, and cheese. And most heartbreakingly of all….. wine….

Oh lord how will I survive without cheese and wine.

I am totally f’d in the a.

Allergies, ahoy!

I love my Little V.

I accept his allergies with a smile and, in some small ways, enjoy the challenge of his lifestyle. In a way, it forces me to make his meals healthy as the challenge of peanuts and wheat really narrows down the kind of things that you can feed a child out in public. It really cuts out large amounts of crap.

Nice challenge, eh? I am a well-prepared mother when we are out and about, as Lord Only Knows what people put in food these days and either don’t mention it or mention it in a super low-key way.

Like Chik-Fil-A.

Did you know that they cook all of their food in peanut oil?

Really, Chik-Fil-A? In an allergen filled world, with peanut allergies becoming extremely prevalent in children, this is a good idea?

Are you even aware of peanut allergies? Or people? Or people with allergies? Or anything? Anything at all? Bastards.

And yes, I didn’t ask at the drive through. And yes, I am a terrible mother. And yes, I was surprised that I hadn’t heard anything about this before. And yes, I tried to steal his chicken nuggets. And yes, that’s how I found out. And yes, I was terribly mad. And yes, finally, I know it is all my fault for not asking. Totally my fault.

However, still annoyed with Chik-Fil-A. Annoyed with their cute kids meals that have Berenstein Bears books in them. It really was one of the few places that I felt ok about Chicken Nuggets. It is actual real chicken,  not that chicken goop that is formed into nuggets.

Maybe I am just a little naive in thinking that in these days of enlightened eating, where everyone is a gourmet chef and food critic, that I would have heard it mentioned before physically running into it. Head first.

Although, CFA is not exactly the most gourmet of eateries.

In reading over their website and allergen claims, it seems quite clear-cut from their point of view. Their oil is heat processed and refined, which apparently makes it safe for consumption by people with allergies.

However, I still feel a little overtly ‘mother concerned’ and am banning them. It weirds me out just a little.

Anyways, that is the end of my Chik-Fil-A rant.

Really, this was all about how V and his allergies. And what I do about them.

Well, I got allergy tested. First part was last Monday, RAST testing on my back. Very interesting. Apparently I have some kind of dermatological skin , which makes skin testing rather tricky because of the welts.

I had a lot of positives for different molds, a few pollens, MAPLE TREE (if you can believe that! AND I am Canadian… whats up with that!), Orange tree. It was very very interesting.

My lovely Nurse  friend drew some blood for food testing and tomorrow I am having intradermal skin testing done.  How allergic am I? Am I an allergic person? Does V get it all from me?

AND, on an interesting side note, it appears he might be allergic to penicillin as well. This is based on a weekend filled with vomit roughly the colour of the amoxicillian he is taking.

I am allergic to it, or was at least sensitive to it as a child, and stupidly haven’t ever mentioned it to V’s Dr.

Dumb-ass.

Just one call to her this weekend, and she happily reassured me re: Vomit-Fest 2009 hosted by the Melvins.

More to follow tomorrow, post testing…

xox a.m.

ps: Kids allergy testing info here…

Fever, again

Mummy? Change me. NOW.

As I type this, my eyes are closed. There is a glass of Merlot in front of me. Julia and Julie is playing on the Blue Ray. V is sleeping. I just finished sauteing some scallops for my salad.

Key phase in above ramble? ‘V is sleeping’

3 days of super sick baby, Mummy has now reached an insane level of ‘over it’.

Except, Mummy can’t be. Not like Mummy is when Daddy gets sick. Nope, with Little Booboo, Mummy is always on.

Wednesday morning was a low fever, Wednesday evening it was 100 degrees. Thursday early morning it was 101. I stayed home that day with the sick Little Man. It was awful. Fevers scare the crap out of me.

Thursday was a ‘Motrin’ day. And a ‘Tylenol’ day. And a “Mummy, I need a cuddle’ day. And that is how I always know my V isn’t feeling well, when he searches out Mummy’s lap and snuggles down.

Thursday afternoon was 102 and Friday morning was 103.2.

POINT TWO! POINT FRIGGIN’ TWO!

Jesus Christ, how can anyone’s heart take this sort of thing?

And then I had to go to work.

And M took him to the Doctor. Bad sinus infection and a molar coming in. How Dr E even managed to get into his mouth to look, I have no idea. I can barely get a toothbrush in there. One time I had to remove something(s) (paper, pennies, dog kibble, pieces of wood, dirt from the floor etc) and I swear he almost severed my finger. Baby teeth are sharp things.

So apparently those 2 things are enough to raise ones body temperature.

Sooooo… amoxicillin, Motrin with alternating doses of Tylenol, decongestant cough/nasal drops, Singulair tablets AND Pulmacort nebulizer treatments.

Last night, while I was dosing the Little Man, I couldn’t believe how many things I was administering to him. Basically 5 (or 6 depending on how the day is going)  different things. Seems like an awful lot for one small body.

Something which was rather apparent to me this morning. Let me fill you in on last night.

Last night, post-bath, as I went to diaper and pj the Little Man I discovered there WERE NO DIAPERS upstairs in his bedroom. Which actually meant that there were no diapers in the upstairs. Which meant there were no diapers in the house. Carrying a naked baby downstairs, I rifled through the diaper bag and found 2.

Oh thank god. One for tonight and one for the morning. And then M would be up (from his double shift) and I could do a run to the drug store and it would all be ok.

So this morning, at 7:30, it was not. My morning started with some hard-core grunting. Oh say it ain’t so. Say it ain’t so!! But the smell said otherwise. Of course, being that the last diaper in the house had just been put on a small bum, it only made sense to use it. Apparently immediately.

Oh sick child of mine, we now have an endless supply of diapers and you can fill them to your hearts content. Which you will. I know you too well.

Rejuvenation

Sometimes it's easy to forget the better things in life...

AtlanticMama rejuvenation project is currently underway.

And I don’t mean just the blog, which is an ongoing work in progress. I am in the process of trying to breath some life back into my ‘life’.

Not that Life sucks right now, or anything like that. And certainly not that life with M is bad or I am not enjoying motherhood. But more of an ‘I am not happy with myself’ sort of thing. Funnily enough, it was about this same time last year, that I was struck with similar feelings. Except at that time, they manifested more as anxiety related-heart palpitation-ish-I think I’ll go to the ER because my heart is racing so much I think I am going to pass out and the way it’s beating is freaking me out.

One ER visit, one follow-up trip to my family doctor, several trips to a cardiologist, one stress test and some medication later, I felt somewhat normal. And rather freaked out. I know it was a combination post-pregnancy plus stress plus sleep-deprivation and I am sure there were a few more factors in there too (those damn socks of M’s). As much as I thought I was handling it, I think I was internalizing it a little too much and the end result was the ER.

For the last few weeks I’ve been feeling it building. Not so much the heart palpitations, but the feelings. The dissatisfaction. I felt like I was watching myself and disapproving of everything. My weak excuses for not hitting up the YMCA. I have a mandatory membership! I have no reason not to go. And this stupid holiday season with all of the yummy things. And my apparent complete lack of self-control when it comes to these delicious seasonal treats.

Lets just say this path felt familiar. And I am determined to not get too far down it again.

Hence my rejuvenation. My pulling things back in line. My focus. My dedication.

Saturday night I gave myself a facial. Holy crap did I need it. It was so relaxing for the 10 minutes that peel mask sat on my skin. And then I ruined the balance by having 2 more glasses of wine and staying up until 1 am. Who am I! Certainly not 25 years old again, living in Japan. What was I thinking. Clearly not anything about how V likes to get up super early. Parenting fail.

Sunday started off strong with a lovely walk in the park and then a trip to yoga. However, ruined again by the stuff-fest hosted by yours truly and staying up too late. And then arguing with M about nothing for a long period of time.

Balance fail.

Today was a better day, so based on that, it is the official start of my Rejuvenation.

No sweets all day. Check!

Healthy lunch. Check!

No caffeine. Check!

Adorably greeted by Little Man at daycare with a lovely picture he painted himself. Check!

Kickboxing class. Check and check!

Parenting and balance win!

Here is a really sweet (as in sensitive and delightful) website about yoga, pregnancy and healthy lifestyles.  All of those preg ladies out there, embrace the yoga. Your body will thank you.

(important health message for the masses. Check!)

xoxo a.m.