Two posts in one day...

My little Peeper weaned and potty trained this week! She came about the potty training on her own. I noticed her readiness and have been letting her go diaper less for a while. Until now she would ask for a diaper when she needed to pee. Now she'll either run to the potty on her own or tell me. What a little dolly! She's even wanting to do #2 on the potty too.

The weaning was a little different. I had the UTI from hell these last two weeks. I can usually kick them on my own and they reoccur less if I do, but this one had me curled up in a little ball, sweating and shaking. The Dr. wrote a script and I hate to admit the drugs are good. ( Not that good, but you never realize how crappy you feel until you start to feel better.) So since little Peeps was only nursing about twice a day, and the drugs pass into breast milk, now was as good a time as any. All I did was explain to her that, "Mommy's boobies have yucky medicine in them". She sees me take the horse pills, and seems to get it. We even went to the store and picked out a special big girl cup. She is great about it. We just cuddle a lot. She is very snuggly now, and I love it. The whole nursing/weaning process has been painless with her. It went beautifully from start to finish.

Tonight I am taking the kids into the city and we are going to stay in a hotel and swim and order pizza, and try to beat the winter blahs. Its supposed to be -30 Celsius here tonight. I would have had to go in to the city tomorrow anyway, as I have a Dr. appointment, and since the kids don't have school tomorrow, it saves us driving there and back in one day. Its kinda sorta doubling as part one of a two part eleventh birthday celebration. Bedhead is bringing along a friend. I'm going to buy them each one new thing to wear to the school dance next Friday. That night, part two, she and her friend will wear their new item to the dance and have a sleep over after. It blows my mind that in the same week we're potty training and shopping for a school dance. All the ages and stages are special in their own way.

The Stepford Wives

I had the enormous pleasure of working last night. At one point it felt like the clock was actually ticking backwards. I guess I should probably tell you what I do for a living. I am a bartender/server at a private club.

I used to bar tend in a bar, but, as I put it to my boss when I gave my notice, if I stayed working there putting up with all the patrons' bs i was going to turn into a raging bitch. It was like babysitting adults really. So I found this new job doing the same thing for way less money. But the difference is since it is a members only club, there are rules and standards of behaviour expected. My boss and co workers are great, and the customers are awesome. One of them brought peanut butter cookies for us at work last night. And regulars give us bonuses at Christmas. This is separate and apart from any sort of wage, they just do it because they appreciate the service. Unlike the last establishment I worked in. There it was like because you were the servant it gave customers licence to dump on you. I got absolutely sick and tired of the stigma attached to working in a bar. The reason I started to work there was because the hours were right. Mr. Maker and I were married and he worked days. He was really good about the bed time routine and had no problem getting four little kids into bed like clockwork. They got to sleep in their own beds and didn't have to go to daycare. I went to work at 6 and they were in bed at 8, so it was less time away from my little makers. I worked the bulk of my hours while they slept. But in this ass backwards town people had to make it scandalous. To them I was there for a good time. Not my idea of a good time, people! After he and I separated it wasn't as relevant anymore, but the money was so good, it was hard to leave. Now I only work enough to pay my mortgage. I'm experimenting with the budget to see if it is financially feasible to work even less. And I just noticed I am way off topic.

Last night, it was quite slow at work and it left me time to notice a few things. There was a table of 8 women. They are all moms of kids the same age as mine. I noticed 5 out of 8 of them had the same haircut. All of them each have two children. They all work days and their children go to some form of daycare. What is this place I'm living in? Not that I have a problem with any of them, I find them to be quite personable. I just noticed how different I am. And not that different is better or worse, its just different.

And this got me thinking. I'm never gonna be one of the Stepford wives. My hair is long and natural and usually worn in a bun. (read boring) My ratio of guy friends and girlfriends is pretty much even. I couldn't see myself enjoying an evening out discussing outfits and purses. I quite enjoy the company of the older ladies from church. There are people out here in my middle of nowhere small town that I do like, but there are few I spend time with. There is no part of me that feels the need to fit in or conform. I choose to live in a small town. And I know that comes with the double edged sword of knowing (or thinking you know) everyone. I'm not going to judge anyone for their differences. I wish it was a two way street, but accepting my own differences and knowing that I may be the topic of discussion because of them and not having a problem with it, I feel, is a huge step in personal growth.

And while 'the haircut' is very stylish and trendy, I'll be keeping my librarian hair.

Progress...One Peanut Butter and Jam Sandwich at a Time.

Its possible what I see as progress in my life could be viewed by some as a big step back. I mean, why would someone use cloth diapers when today's disposables are so thin, absorbent and easy? Or why would you possibly make your own bread when it costs $1.69 for a bakery loaf from the store? Yes, I'm still nursing my 21 month old, and she still sleeps in bed with me. I'm sure people view me as a sucker for punishment, with my five kids, making more work for myself.

What works for me might just not go for someone else, and that is just fine. When I was faced with the prospect of bringing home a new baby, with four others at home, losing sleep WAS NOT an option. Having her right there in bed when she was hungry in the night guaranteed me as much sleep as possible. She nursed like a maniac ten minutes after birth. She knew what she was doing. It was instinct. And I'm sure when she doesn't need it anymore she'll stop doing it. Just as her sisters and brother before her did. She's gone the longest out of all five. She drinks from a cup without a sippy lid, and eats the same meals we do, its just that she has an occasional boob. The actual term for it is 'child led weaning'. To me its just common sense.

When BedHead was born my mother gave me a tub of diaper cream she just swore by. Well there was never a bum rash to be had. The same was true of HannaBanana. After Poopypants, it expired and I thew it out. With The Tiny Maniac I never even missed it. But Peeper was a different story all together. At two weeks old she had the reddest little raw bum I'd ever seen. I tried everything. Nothing worked. The midwife told me that all the rash she'd seen lately was coming from babies whose Mommies were using Pampers sensitive wipes. I cut them out, and it got a little better. The kids got a kick out of their old pj's as bummie wipes. (I'd already ripped up a couple old receiving blankets into hankies after my darling little Tiny Manic ripped up a kleenex and stuck a little piece up her nose.) And Arrowroot powder works wonders too. But she still had an irritated little bottom. The last and most scary step was switching to cloth. The self doubt held me back. Could I do this? I bought a kit of prefolds and covers. They were so easy right from the start! Why had I not used these four babies ago? Its only one extra load of laundry every 4 days or so. When you already average 2-3 loads a day it doesn't seem like much. Since then I've bought a couple of pocket diapers. They are nice, but pricey. I like that I can stuff them with my prefolds.

I compost. I don't do disposable lunches. I take my own canvas bags to the grocery store. The little red wagon has put on some miles. I recycle. I had one of my driveways pushed out and earth hauled in for a garden. I cook mostly from scratch. I buy organic when possible, and I love going to Mrs. Snider's garden market in the summer. I have been saving my little plastic fruit clam shells for her, and my egg cartons for the lady whose eggs I buy. For me it is just a heightened awareness of the world around me that inspire me to do these little things every day. Its not as much as some people do, but its more than others, and right now its just right for me. They are baby steps to my dream of a more sustainable life.

So today as I'm making the PB&J sandwiches I realize this jam was made by me with strawberries picked this summer from the u pick. And I made the bread on Tuesday. The peanut butter I bought, but it is 'just peanuts'. No oil or icing sugar added. And I realize that this is not a gargantuan gesture, but its my tiny progress.

Its my part in what I feel could be a huge movement if everyone made their own tiny, green, baby steps toward it. Only doing what one is capable of is all I feel it would take. And now that I am doing everything I feel I'm capable of, I feel like I want to do more, push out of my comfort zone a little bit. Maybe start some of my own seeds, have posts pounded for a clothesline, possibly even make my own laundry soap. (The old lady who lived here before me left a lot behind, as she was 90 and her daughters do not live very close. She left washing soda and bars of pure soap. I have borax, so all the ingredients are there, I just have try it.)

So try something new and green. Make some progress! And if anyone actually reads this blog, I'd love to hear your stories.

Snow Day #4

School has been cancelled four days in a row now. The strangest thing is that I'm not exactly sure why. It isn't cold, it isn't raining anymore. There was an awful lot of snow that fell. Maybe its still just really slippery. I wouldn't know though because honestly people, I don't go anywhere!

So you'd think that after being at home for 4 long days with no TV the kids would be at each others throats and I'd be pulling my hair out, right? Well these little makers just keep surprising me. Everyone is getting along famously. Its funny how for the older two having the little ones around is a novelty. Yesterday they invented a club. For the afternoon they were on the computer outlining the purpose and rules of the club. They even made buttons to wear to the meetings. On them they had their various positions within the club...BedHead, Vice President. It was too cute. Today was their first actual club meeting. I think this may be the greatest club going. They took the little ones under their wing and had all these activities planned for them. Oreo lick race was one of them so needless to say they had the little ones' full attention. Hannabanana and BedHead kept everyone busy for 3 WHOLE HOURS.

So I'm almost embarrassed to say I napped on the couch. But after a busy day like yesterday I think it was well earned. When I got up yesterday, I went full on. By the time I looked at the clock at 9:00am I already had the dishwasher running, two loads of laundry done, kids up and dressed for their day, kitchen swept, and bread dough made and in the sun to rise. It was a work night too. So I'm literally handing the potato masher over as I'm running out the door to be at work for 6pm. When I get home late, it never fails, a little sleeping head pops up to greet me. Peeper still likes to have her midnight nurse. The days are long and full, but I wouldn't trade them for anything.

A Happy Heart

At the very core of me there is a belief that I am somehow being provided for. That everything is not just a coincidence. That mostly there is a reason for everything. It is just up to me to see it. And that isn't always easy. Life jades us, and makes us cynical, negative...if we let it.

My life is busy. Sometimes I feels like I'm spread so thin, pulled in so many different directions. I wonder about the time I get to spend with the little makers. Is it enough?

The point I am trying to make is that when I question this the most, is when the divine signs of the universe are the most clear. I worked a bunch of days in a row and fell behind on everything at home. I took PoopyPants to the movie, just him and I. And HannaBanana and I went for a girls afternoon out shopping. I like to take the kids out individually when I am able and give them some alone time with mom. It doesn't happen often because I'm a single mommy, but when it does I always feel a little guilty about the ones left behind. 'Family time'. So after all these special one on one activities I was feeling like I just needed us to be all together. Monday morning I woke up to quite a surprise. A silent wish granted. School was cancelled due to ice and freezing rain. It was cancelled again today. Two extra days to just be together and enjoy each other's company.

So the kids got a snow day without the cold and snow. They played outside TOGETHER...all of them without fighting. Then they came in to hot chocolate and fresh peanut butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. (I'm sure little noses can smell them before they're even through the door.) Now they are playing contently. I just get to sit back and listen to the sweet noise of my everyday. I am thankful for what I have been given. Life is beautiful.

The Trade Off

I don't ever say my house is clean anymore. If I've spent the day hauling ass I usually say its 'cleaner'. That would be the more politically correct description. I mean its never as clean as I want it to be, or as clean as the old, type A me would have been satisfied with. I have found that since there are always children around its more of a trade off. While I clean in one room they terrorize another. And as a parent my job mostly entails distraction and damage control.

The other day I NEEDED to get my dishes done. Playdough and coloring just weren't gonna cut it at keeping the Tiny Maniac and Peeper entertained anymore. So while I did my dishes in their entirety the little ones played with an improvised rice table. I cleaned out my pantry of years old chick peas and rice that never quite cooked right, threw in some lentils for color and voila...30 minutes for mom. They had scoopers and little animals to feed and bury.

As a side note though, my entire kitchen had to be swept up. I got the dishes done but I guess it was a trade off. But everything is though. At least it wasn't marker on walls or pen on couch, right?