What "Happily Ever After" looks like in the middle.

I was struck today by the drastic nature of the communication shift within my marriage since having children. What struck me, specifically?

"Not to worry, Honey. It was just one of those turtle-ing moments when it's starting to come out but you hold it in and run screaming. Not a major mess."

If you don't know what I am referring to, you've never had children.

WHAT HAPPENED??!!

I promise you, no words even REMOTELY resembling the above would ever had been uttered in conversation with my beloved 9 years ago.

9 years has flown by...

Some examples:

Sunday afternoon:

BEFORE
"I loved the part of the sermon about loving your neighbour. Maybe the whole baseball bat vs. mailbox thing was a bad idea."

AFTER
"I think I may have forgotten a dirty diaper on the pulpit. I hope the cleaning lady will find it."

9:00 PM Friday night

BEFORE
"Wanna go to Boston Pizza?"

AFTER
"So, wanna.......ummmmm.....(insert own slang here)......or just go to bed?"

6:00 PM Wednesday

BEFORE
"How was your day? I had the most amazing sandwich for lunch today at Subway!"

AFTER
"What do you mean, 'Won't be home by bedtime?'" (or insert above quote)



I will say it again: WHAT HAPPENED??!!

The picture has changed somewhat. 

This is unacceptable. I can't remember the last conversation I had with my husband that did not include the words: diaper, barf, poop, tantrum, or boogers. Romantic.

Somewhere between "I do!" and "Welcome baby!" we've become excrement obsessed, home-bound, old people.

Not ok.

"Date Night" now consists of dropping the kids off at the Grandparents and quickly zipping 15 minutes away to Steinbach to have supper and zipping back for bedtime. Since this usually means a choice of 2 restaurants......we don't get out much.

On the upside, we saw a sign in Steinbach the other day:

Coming Soon: Boston Pizza. Opening 2012.

My husband couldn't contain his excitement, "YAY! We can date again!!!"

This, my friends is where we are. Come to Boston Pizza on opening night and you can bet we will be standing in line for the doors to open. If talk of bodily fluids makes you uncomfortable, find another table, it's all we have to talk about. But don't worry, we won't be there long. Bedtime is at 8.

Doting mom or negligent monster?

Why is there never any middle ground?!

This week, my little girl started preschool. Leading up to this day, I shared in her excitement. We shopped for her first "indoor" shoes, bought the most AWEFUL glittery princess backpack, and talked about how fun it would be to start her new adventure. I thought this was normal.....

4 going on 15. This relationship is only getting started!

Apparently, once again, I am nowhere near normal.

Ready to go. Even the dog is excited!

Leave it to our good friend, social media, to make me question myself as a parent. (This happens more often than I would like to admit.)

As the big day approached, my friends' statuses began to look like tear-stained laments of time lost.

"They CAN'T grow up!"

"Have I taught them enough?"

"Dropped them off, went home and cried, life as I know it is OVER!"

As if the beautiful sentiments weren't enough when directed at general cyberspace, I was questioned personally about my thoughts. (Silly girl, complaining about considerate friends! I know, just keep reading.)

"Did Mommy cry?"

No. Mommy did not.

"How are you dealing?"

Last time I checked, I was NOT a dealer.

"Let me know how dropping her off goes." (This one sounds innocent but the intention was, "Let me know if you break down like a blubbering idiot.)

Have to have a pic next to the flowers.

Why the rant about my wonderful, considerate, caring friends?

They have revealed something in me I didn't realize was wrong.

I have absolutely NONE of these feelings. I don't know how to react to these questions. If I would answer completely honestly I would say:

"I feel awesome! She is so excited. She NEEDS the outing. I only wish my two little boys were old enough to go too. Is there a preschool that is EVERYDAY? Can I just send her down the driveway and a bus will come pick her up? Could we change it to all day? Is there a boarding preschool?

Ok, not that last one. But you get the picture. Some might say that I am just denying my feelings or I will have them yet, but with the barrage of sentiment, I TRIED. I really tried. I WANTED to relate to the mothers that wonder if they have done enough, prepared enough, taught enough to send their child out into the world. I just don't.

Is that bad?

Even my little boys exhibited major stress at the "loss" of their bossy playmate. They didn't know what to do with themselves. Instead of getting lots done, like I foolishly hoped, I spent the morning dealing with their overwhelming emotions.

So, major vulnerable moment going on here. Am I a negligent monster? Am I not attached enough to my children? Have I missed something?

All I know is that I LOVE MY KIDS. Fiercely, fully, and painfully. I ache for their future, knowing their struggles. I hope for their choices, knowing the temptations out there. But I guess I don't ache for myself, my own loss. Weird? Maybe. But I think I'll be ok...... I'm already dreading my sons' weddings, so I'm not completely heartless....

BTW: I love all my friends. Please don't stop asking me stuff......it makes me think. ;)

Logic spawns so much Drama!

Coming up with logical consequences for disobedience is sometimes nearly impossible. Not everything has a consequence that makes sense immediately, but is an important thing to learn. Today's infraction?

Going in Mommy's room without her knowledge. This is a rule in our house because toddlers can't really be trusted to refrain from jumping on the bed or depositing all your chapstick-sized items into your glass of water.

My 4-year-old is bad for "forgetting" this rule. Today she found a way to get in and deposit some teddy bear evidence before quietly removing herself and re-closing the door. When she couldn't find her teddy bear, Mommy came to the rescue only to incriminate the little victim. Oops. What to do?

I had to take a moment to think, and this always scares the kids far more than the consequence.

AHA!! I've got it. We have been talking about trust with the kids lately. Mostly in regards to telling the truth, but I seized the opportunity to broaden the definition. 

"Sweetheart, because I can no longer trust you to play upstairs alone without going in my room, you may not play upstairs without an adult for one week." She instantly realized that this meant that all her Barbies, teddy bears, and wooden paper dolls were inaccessible. 

"Mom, can you go get my Barbies?"

"Nope. They are upstairs and therefore part of the consequence for your disobedience. I'm really sorry."

This was followed by an extreme emotional reaction involving the words, "NEVER!..." "Devastated!..." and "Hopeless!.." Wow. She IS a dramatic one.

Though logical consequences are WAY more difficult to come up with, and sometimes non-existent, they always seem to be the most hard to swallow for my little ones. Maybe that's why I believe they are so effective. I LOVE logical consequences. Even when I have to butt heads with the most illogical of responses!

Perspective.

I watched a video today about a severely autistic girl who was unable to speak. For the first 11 years of her life she was labelled as developmentally delayed as well as autistic. (the actual diagnoses was "mentally retarded" but I will use the current term here) When she was eleven, they sat her in front of a computer for the first time and since then she has gone on to write a blog and started a novel. She answers questions not only coherently but more intelligently than most "average" kids. WOW.

Why is this relevant?

Enter Oli. My beautiful, energetic, highly intelligent son.

Though he is not even close to having the same symptoms as this lovely girl, my husband and I have tossed the "autism" ball around for some time. He has moderate social anxieties, including separation fears. These symptoms worsen when change to routine or environment occur. We struggle to bring him anywhere or have people over to visit without feeling severe embarrassment over his angry, and sometimes violent behaviour. I found myself constantly apologizing for him and "explaining" Oli to the people around him.

Enter a very special auntie and who I look to as a wonderful parenting figure. She found herself doing the same thing with her son. Always "explaining" how his brain works or why he was behaving a certain way. Right in front of her son. She encouraged me not to do this. Don't display for them that they are "defective" by explaining away what you perceive as faults. Hadn't thought of it that way.

I thought about what it would be like if my parents had always done this for me......

"My apologies. We've tried to get her to stop chewing on everything but she just seems to need the calories." (This is COMPLETELY untrue!)

"Sorry about her. She refuses to wear jeans so inappropriate leggings in a myriad of colours is all I can get on her body." (This one may be true...)

"Aw man! Sorry, we've tried to get her to talk slower, but her brain must work faster than most..." (Can't deny this one.)

Ok. So who am I kidding, they are all true.... (But I don't remember my parents ever saying things like this.)

Moral of the story?

I'm done apologizing for who my son is. That doesn't mean I am done teaching. In a private, safe place, I will still instruct and try to lead him in finding his way to more appropriate responses and behaviours. But the public displays of shame and dismay (which sounds harsh but let's face it, that's what it is!) are over!!

So if you see me do this, please remind me....I DO run on a "mom-brain" afterall...

A Good Man was Easy to find.

Yesterday I tried to figure out how my husband manages to balance all the amazing things he does for me. He would like to be in constant physical contact...but still wants to know about me as a person. His every action is designed to make my life easier. He wishes he were home while he's at work, and I think he actually ENJOYS taking 3 toddlers and his town-raised wife along on farm errands. The only solution I can come up with is that he actually loves us THAT much. He just does. He firmly believes me to be the most beautiful woman on our fair planet, (God bless his ignorance!) and he desires for my happiness above all else. He is always trying to better himself as a parent and takes the time to explain things he is doing to the kids. I am hopelessly attached to this man.

Haven't changed at all in 9 years! ;)

This is my joy today. And my sorrow. Tomorrow we will bury a vibrant wife and daughter. My thoughts these last few days have been wrapped up in trying to imagine how life will continue for her husband. It scares me. Almost enough to make me want to withdraw. Try to keep from losing myself in him. Here's the rub. I like enjoying the blissful happiness I live in right now. And, after all the energy I've spent imagining my life without him, I forgot the reverse. I hope if I go first, he will know how much I loved him. I vow to spend whatever time I have left telling, and showing him and others how much I love him.

I win!

I did it! Take that, you stinky nightstand! You done been reconditioned! After sanding, puttying, bleaching (twice!), priming every single inch of that blasted thing, and two coats of paint, I have won. No longer smelly, and exceedingly gorgeous, this piece now rests in my bedroom. Stay tuned for the rest of the bedroom makeover. Some teasers? Eggplant, wainscotting, vintage green damask, and pillows.

Reminder of where we started.

Oh how far we've come.

DIY FYI

My creative juices have brought me to home decor as of late. I have a door in my porch waiting to become a head board, a pile of ancient curtains in the basement waiting to become dramatic new ones, and a night stand in the shed waiting to become a brighter-coloured nightstand.

All of the above was acquired for a grand total of $13, thanks to generous friends, building centre sales, and our neighbourhood thrift store. Now, usually you can trust your friends will not give you anything ridiculously disgusting, (Depending on your friends, I guess!) and the building centre should be trusted to sell only quality controlled items......but the thrift store? I've never had a problem. UNTIL NOW!!!

I purchased the most beautiful of night stands the other day for a whopping $8. What a find! What exactly did I find?

I'm pretty sure this night stand served as the birth place, home, and final resting place for an entire family of rodents as well as the fire-hydrant-esque powder room for an entire pack of dogs.

The smell was not immediately apparent in the store. It IS a thrift store, after all. I DID find an unusually large amount of small rodent excrement in it for being indoors, but I figured that was a quick clean up. Without much further examination, I paid the man and proceeded to carry out my newest treasure. Upon moving the piece away from the neighbouring ones, I noticed the dried on, orangish drips in years of layers down the hidden side. Oh well! Another easy wipe down.

I proudly unloaded my invaluable treasure and placed it on the grass to wipe it down. This went well, aside from the overwhelming men's-bathroom-at-a-truckstop smell as I wiped the canine bathroom side.

Luckily, there was no project space available in the house, so I placed the piece in the porch to await sanding and painting. When my husband left for work the following morning he was assaulted (and I mean completely slapped in the face) by the smell of death, urine, and general old furniture that had taken up residence in our porch. He was ready to throw it out, right then and there. But I am me. NO WAY! I am going to win this battle.

Well. The thing has been sanded, puttied, bleached twice, and the smell remains. It is fainter and mixed with the smell of bleach and Febreeze. (not the best idea.) And still, I am not ready to give up! I will use an odour and stain blocking primer and I WILL beat this thing.

What did I learn?

If it is $8 in a room full of $40, there is a reason. Find it.