Category Archives: patience

“Suck on my ass!” and other things unrelated to this post…

So I’m on Long Island. With the boys. And our adventure is about to begin.

We flew out of Orlando this morning, getting up way too early for my liking. I shouldn’t complain that much, my in-laws got up way, way, way earlier than we did.

Vince was shockingly well-behaved at the airport. He was shockingly well-behaved through security too. We waited nicely for our boarding call. We made frequent trips to the potty. He POOPED on the potty at the airport!! Holy Moly, this trip is awesome!!

I spent a frightening amount of time packing a backpack for Vince, filled with stickers, colouring books, a few toys, snacks, spare pants etc etc.

Funnily enough, he barely played with these things.  He did have fun with the stickers, but not in the orderly manner I was expecting. It was one of those sticker collecting books, with numbered stickers (in this case, Cars 2). All the stickers are on the cover, none are in the boos. Some might be on the plane still, decorating the tray and arm-rest. (Some are in my pocket, please don’t tell him. He was looking for them earlier). I had to restrain myself from ‘helping’ him. I might as well have just bought my own sticker book. So sad…

After a fairly uneventful trip (I cannot even believe I just said that), we are cozily ensconced in our hotel, having a beer, listening to some actor in City Slickers 2 shout “Suck it! Suck on my ass!!”

Tonight’s itinerary? Dinner with 18 close members of Edward’s family…

Ha! Wish me luck and a well-behaved son… (and then, pat me sadly on the back and tell me ‘dream on’.)

Off to squeeze in a snooze before eating more….

xoxo a.m.

 

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Filed under boys, flying with children, holy mother, parenting, patience

Techical error

So that post I thought I posted on Father’s Day? Um, technical error. Didn’t post. Most likely because I forgot to hit the ‘publish’ button. But that’s OK. You didn’t really want to read another blather about fathers and dads and sons and everyone all doing super things together, right??

We ate pizza and went swimming. Vince painted Daddy a picture. It was extremely sweet. So that was Father’s Day, and then Edward went to work and I went to sleep. Party.

We are gearing up for our trip to New York this weekend. I should clarify that we are not actually going to the Big Apple. We are hitting up Long Island. You know, where Lindsay Lohan is from? There.

So unfortunately Tracy, I will not be going handbag shopping. As much as I long to be ushered up staircases and behind black sheet-draped enclosures, I will not be. Vince and his cousin Chloe are getting christened together on Sunday instead.

I guess it’s a good trade-off…

Maybe someone wants to just pick me up a handbag as a christening gift to Vince? Right. I thought not.

I am pretty excited to head up North to see the family. The last time we were up there was when Edward’s other little cousin Anna was christened in 2006. Which was just a few weeks after I moved to Florida from Canada. It was a bit of a culture shock for this Canadian, which is funny to look back at.

What a transformation a polite Canadian has when confronted by 70 or so Italians who mostly are eating things that Canadians are not accustom to devouring. And I say devour because that’s what I did. Pretty much the whole time. At Edward’s Grandparents house. At that really awesome restaurant we all ate at. At Edward’s aunts house, the one with the chocolate fountain?

It’s been 5 years and I am now a corrupt Anglo-Italian. Of sorts. Or at least my son is, being as he is actually of Italian and Canadian descent. And says ‘Mummy’ and ‘holiday’ and yet, also, eats mortadella by choice and has requested salami. And is three years old.

And who’s Mummy is an epic rambler. What was I talking about? Why am I not in bed? Happy Father’s Day! Belated!

Heading to Long Island in 3 days and am terrifically excited… Don’t worry, I’ll ramble again  before then…

xoxo a.m.

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Filed under family, Florida, Holiday, holy mother, Lindsay Lohan, motherhood, parenting, patience, traveling, Uncategorized

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.

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How to lose your child in a department store (A Guide)

This is what not running looks like...

First of all, and this part is really important, try to make sure that you get infected with pinkeye 2 or 3 days prior to attempting to lose your child. This, I feel, really heightens the event by increasing not only your uncomfortableness but skewing your vision as well.

And ideally this will all take place on a Sunday. And if all of the stars are aligned properly, it will also be Mother’s Day.

We very politely crossed the parking lot, holding hands, and entered the building. We went and collected a shopping cart, V scooted in and off we went. Just browsing, I picked up a cute work shirt, grabbed some Mickey Mouse pj’s for Little Man and was perusing some trinkets WHEN. WHEN

He picked up 2 watches from a display table and did a runner.

And while running away from me? He kicked off his sandals, gained momentum and disappeared between the brassieres…

Oh my god. There were way to many brassieres. It was like finding a needle in a jungle. And V is like a huge chubby needle, with no shoes, but I still couldn’t find him.

Not in the men’s long sleeve shirt section. Not amongst the kitchen goods.

Where was he? I had no idea. Edward called me while I was looking… Transcript to follow:

E: “Happy Mother’s Day sweetie!!”

J: “I lost our child.”

E: “What. What!”

J: “Ya. I’ll call you back.”

*Click*

5 or possibly 10 minutes later, a giggly, blonde, curly mess with no shoes tore around the corner of a display, watches in hand. And perhaps the cheekiest grin you have ever seen in your whole entire life. Unless you are me. Then, you see a new one ever single day.

So to recap trying to capture this delicious moment…

Plan on pinkeye. Aim for little to no sleep for at least 2 days prior to the event. Also, having your husband sleeping downstairs on a futon because he doesn’t want to catch your disease. Very important. If you also have a fever and  sinus congestion while this is all going on, even better. I feel it really heightens the emotional reward.

xoxo a.m.

(My Mother’s Day sucked. Except for that part when my child was sleeping)

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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.

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Filed under awkward, bath-time, boys, Daddy, Lake Nona, Mad skills, Mummy, parenting, patience, pause, pee, poo, sarcasm, Uncategorized

Twin Bed

A short guide to not only buying a mattress, but also to surviving the post-sale salesman small talk.

After much back and forth it was decided that the addition of a twin bed would be a good idea to the household.  We currently have a full size (or standard or what every you call it) futon convertible. But the addition of another sleeping surface is necessary. Especially considering our upcoming company. We also were considering it V’s future ‘Big Boy’ bed.

We did some price checking.  The whole usual sort of thing.

Blah blah blah… let me just skip to us pulling up to the store and add that we were actually the only car in the lot. Where the salesman parked, no idea. There was only one of him and literally no other cars in a quarter mile radius.

It took a while for us to decide.

We had to decide between the cheapest mattress they had and then the one slightly more expensive.

Let me illustrate how hard this decision was:

“Could you show me your least expensive mattress?”

“Yes… it’s right over here “, he said, slightly out of breath from the thought of a potential sale and also from running from his desk to a dark corner where he frantically tossed garbage off of a thin crappy looking mattress stuffed behind some sales props.

“Go ahead, lie down and see how it feels…. it’s, ummm, not the best”, he added, “It’s not what I’d like to sleep on. But go ahead. Lie down.”

I didn’t need to do that to know that it felt like a prison cot.

We opted for something else. I know my Mum appreciates the thought that went into making that tricky decision.

So M and V went outside to make a call and I went to pay.

With my Visa card and id on the far side of his desk and the sales screen open, Kevin proceeded to make the most painful small talk I have ever been a party to.

Here are a few topics he covered:

Farmers Markets and how they just ‘need a chance’, Puerto Ricans, his nagging dry cough, the drive he took with his wife last weekend, how he works Saturdays, why he likes fresh vegetables…

This whole conversation was actually directed at the front of the store and not at me. He just stared blankly ahead while he rambled and made no eye contact at all.

Tips:

Wait until the sales forms are completed before handing over id/credit card.

Do not let your husband abandon you while you pay.

Make sure you bring your child who will serve as a handy distraction and allow you a quick and easy exit. And also prevent ‘chatting’.

xoxo a.m.

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Filed under family, holy mother, Mad skills, mattress, patience, Uncategorized, uncomfortable

Toilet

About 4 or 5 months ago, V discovered the joys of unraveling toilet paper. As a total neat freak, I was not happy about his discovery, although I did enjoy the silly noises he made while he trashed my bathroom. Can’t get mad at that!

All of the toilet paper immediately moved to the bathroom counter, behind the sink and completely out of reach of small, determined fingers.

Bathrooms are just not a great place for children. Ours all have doorknobs that he can open. They aren’t ‘knobs’ per se, but more like handles. So he is in and out of the bathrooms all the time and is carefully monitored when he is near a drawer.

He mostly pulls things out and throws them either into the basket by the toilet or the bath tub. Or he just places them carefully on top of the toilet. Toe nail clippers, contact lenses, hair accessories. The other day I caught him with a tampon in his mouth. And it was one of those o.b. ones too, which I haven’t bought in years so lord only knows where he got it from.

This afternoon, while I wallowed in sickness upstairs, he emerged from the bathroom with a handful of condoms. He then proceeded to giggle hysterically and run all over the bedroom with them. And then cried when I took them away… (mental note to self, find new place for condoms and tampons).

Back to the TP… I guess he forgot about it, or we did or we all did because gradually it was re-hung and no-one paid it any mind. Until last night.

M was brushing his teeth in front of the TV in the bedroom and I was on the other side of the house putting some laundry away. V was running back and forth between us. At some point we lost track of him, maybe for about 5 seconds.

We both heard some very giggly giggling. It was extra giggly. It was coming from the bathroom.

I peeked around the corner to see it awash in a sea of white. Paper everywhere. V kicking his feet. Toilet paper everywhere. As those little fat fingers reached for what was left on the roll I did a run and dive with a slo-mo “Noooooooooo…”.

I handed Mr Giggle to Daddy.

As he was carried, giggling, out of the bathroom, I surveyed the room.

M’s voice drifted in from across the way “Don’t worry Hun! I’ll reroll it!”

Ha! Really? It seriously would have taken all night. I scooped it all up and dumped it in the sink. Strict instructions were issued to actually use it.

Oh how I love parenthood and my sink toilet-paper!

xoxo a.m.

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Filed under awesomeness, bed-time, health, Mad skills, parenting, patience, Toddlers, toilet, toilet paper, Uncategorized

Days like these…

5:00 am, alarm goes off.

5:30 the alarm goes off again.

And then, then no alarms. No alarms at all.

Yawning, I rummage under my duvet to where I have stashed my alarm clock so I can ignore it. In the dim light of the bedroom, I half open my right eye and peek at it.

6:29

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

M had to leave for work in 15 minutes and he was currently snoring. My left eye was still closed. V was still sleeping. So was the dog.

M, who was asleep, somehow managed to instantly manifest himself in the shower. Naked. Thank goodness he managed to take his clothes off.

I walked the dog, woke up V and traded places with M. It was a baby hand-off.

I had a 2 second shower. I forgot my breakfast on the kitchen counter. I did, however, manage to get myself dressed, get V dressed and drive my car.

Slightly out of breath, I managed to make it to daycare. We entered the classroom to the slightly apologetic smile of one of V’s teachers.

Unfortunately, she told us, DCF requires that students how have a documented fever not return to school for a 24 hour period. V was sent home yesterday at 4:10 with a fever of 100.8.

She reminded me that this was in the packet of papers that I filled out (I filled them out in September). Apparently I was expected to remember the fine print.

I was not pleased.

So Little Man went to work with Mummy this morning. And I called my Father-in-law, who happily came and picked him up and took him to Ikea for breakfast.

I swear I seethed about this all morning long. And I wonder how I will act around them this morning when I take him back. I haven’t quite made up my mind yet.

Later in the day I did receive an apologetic call from the school’s director, apologizing for the confusion with some blathering about how it was a ‘new policy’ (my ass) and how she was ‘sorry for the confusion’ (which she wasn’t). I knew she was only saying that as I had left the school saying that I ‘understood that there are rules, but I would have appreciated a reminder when I left with him the day before as I could have easily made arrangements’.

Regardless, I know the way it goes. When you work in one field, you automatically assume that everyone who employs your services understands the ins and outs. But the truth is, everyone knows very little.

So expecting me, as a mother of a young child, to automatically know the policies and procedures when a child has a fever is ridiculous. Perhaps if V was 3 or 4. But he isn’t even 2 yet and only  there for 3 months. So pardon me. Pardon freakin’ me for having not memorized all the paperwork that I signed and handed in in September and for, apparently, being a little ‘confused’ (as his young teacher explained to me with a wee frowny face) by everything.

And now, thursday morning, as I watch V eat breakfast and enjoy some morning Sesame Street, I am still thinking about how to handle the situation this morning. Humourously? Sternly? A combo of both?

One thing is for sure, there will be no apologizing on my part for anything. And since I am writing this down, I will be sure to remember to NOT apologize (it’s a bad habit of mine).

Wish me patience and a calm demeanor!

xoxo a.m.

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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

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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.

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