Something Cute to Share

Sizing each other up.

Miscellaneous Life

So my son just came up from playing in the basement quietly for some time...dressed in a ladies' hat and vest. Hilarious. Life is always amusing around here. We do have quite a selection of dress up clothes down there. All he needed to complete the outfit was the pink stilettos. Poor guy. It would be nice to bring home a little blue bundle this time around. There is just something so special about the way little boys love their mommies. But either would be nice. I've really never had a preference for one over the other any time I've been pregnant.

This time around I didn't get a midwife. Not by choice, but apparently there are a lot of July babies coming this year, and they're booked right up. I'm still holding out hope that maybe I'll make it far enough up the waiting list though. In the meantime, I have an OB that seems to do the trick. I fall in love with this child even more every day.

My dear HannaBanana just got out of the tub and I ragged her hair, just like my mom used to rag mine. She is such a beautiful spirit. A little peace maker.

The tiny maniac has been beading up a storm this weekend. We bought a set of beads and clasps. Even PoopyPants made a bracelet for one of his girl friends at school. All I could think was look at this kid now! This is the guy that the teacher wanted to keep in kindergarten. That couldn't hold scissors or a pencil 'properly'. He has come such a long way, stringing tiny beads onto wire. It was hard for me to go against the advice of the principal and the teachers, and say I was going to go with instinct and have faith in my child. He proves everyday he was ready for the challenge and change grade one brought.

This post has taken a long time with little Peeper on my knee. Her job is pressing the space bar. Not that this post really had a purpose to it. Mostly I am just hiding out so I don't have to watch curling...again.

Why I Love The Lumber Guy

There is someone that I seldom speak of, yet he is an important part of my very interesting life. Its easy with the pace of life here being what it is to forget to mention him. And we did go through a really rough patch about a year ago. But somehow we managed to come through it stronger than ever.

We met officially about two and a half years ago. He was around the same age as Mr. Maker, so he was always somewhat of an acquaintance, as everyone around here of the same age is bound to have mutual friends or end up at the same events. But I never really had much to do with Mr. Makers' activities or friends. I was fresh on the heels of my separation and at that point I was just trying to keep busy. I went down to the lumberyard in town to buy paint for the house. And that's when we officially met/spoke. A week or so later he happened into my place of work and we had something to talk about...paint. I know, how very boring, right? But it was an excuse for conversation I guess. He gave me his number in that high school reminiscent way and I jokingly texted it, asking, "Isn't the guy supposed to get the girl's number?" I sometimes wonder if he was totally crazy for pursuing me, knowing I was a newly single mother of four with one on the way. But I see now that he saw something that took me longer to acknowledge. We never had that butterfly/love at first sight kind of thing. But I've always been able to tell him everything, and I mean absolutely everything. He has definitely seen the worst of me. I'd like to think that I've seen the worst of him too. And yet we still value and accept each other for who we are.

Even when it was really bad between us we still talked. I know that if I ever needed anything, he'd be there for me. And he really has been. For the little makers too. They never have to walk to school. And I don't have to get the little ones bundled up and take them out in the frigid cold. He leaves work to come and take them to school. And bring them home for lunch. And take them back after. He also without asking has taken to clearing the table after supper and loading the dishwasher. It is such a big help because the bedtime ritual for five is quite time consuming. To get everyone in bed and then not having the supper mess to clean up is such a luxury. For the first time in a long time I feel like I have a partner in life. Not a playmate, not someone to answer to, but someone to live along side. We are like an old married couple, even though we technically don't live together. I joke because people in this town like to talk. If they could see just how scandalous our life is...our evenings spent of him watching hockey and me folding laundry.

I realized again just how much I love him when he left to go on a 4 day golf/hockey holiday with a friend. His presence around the house is missed. Seeing him so happy and excited to get away warmed my heart. He's been working really hard, taking on extra projects at work, and extra here with me being sick. He really deserved to go away. Instead of going for coffee at work this week he built the Tiny Maniac a dollhouse book case, like we'd seen at Costco. He's thoughtful like that. And he supports my crazy ideas in life, even though we are two different people.

Its not passionate or exciting, but the thought of our comfortable, stable, loving future together in itself is exciting to me.

Little Maker...In The Making

There is so much I have to say about this new little life we are awaiting, but instead of doing it half way on such a busy day I'll have a proper post up soon. Today and the rest of this week I am working on getting Bedhead and Tiny Maniac's room painted. We've lived with the mint green walls for long enough, now it is time for them to go. One room at a time I am getting our bedrooms in order, complete with a major closet/toy/clothes overhaul. Its therapeutic donating heaps of stuff-for me anyway. I crave the order and organization right now. Could it be nesting already?

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.