Wednesday, October 16, 2013

What's the big idea?

I am doing something scary.  I don't mean scary as in, "Boo!"  I mean wow this is huge and big and I could really do this.  Or I could totally screw this up and make a fool of myself.  But I don't think I will.  I think I will make this work.  And I think it will change me and what I think I can do.  

I got an idea.  The idea would not leave me alone.  It would pop into my head when I was waiting for coffee, or at 3 am when baby B was up to nurse, often when I couldn't sleep.  It kept coming back.  It.would.not.go.away.

I am a bit of a dreamer. I come up with lots of ideas but most of the time I don't do much with them.  The amount of work, the cost, or the talent needed is lacking on my part.  The ideas drift in and out and until now nothing ever pushed right out of my head and into reality.

This spring the idea was screaming so loud in my head that I could not ignore it anymore.  I texted a friend to meet for lunch.  Then I panicked.  She is going to think I am crazy, a foolish dreamer wasting her time.  Somehow I managed to not lose the few marbles I still have and made it to lunch.  

The results of that meeting...and many meetings since will result in something.  I am not ready to share the details yet, but soon.  In 2 weeks or so I will launch my idea and hopefully not fall on my face and look like a loser.  I am calling in favours all over town and discovering the many talents of my wonderful friends.

I am so excited and totally terrified. 

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Melting down the meltdowns.

I have some how kept a truth about my life a secret without even trying.  I did not realize I was so good at keeping secrets.  My own mother often chides me for over-sharing on Facebook.  I do share…and sometimes more than my mother can handle but it turns out I also keep some things so hidden I don’t even realize I have hid them.  Confused yet?

While camping my sister and I disagreed with how I was dealing with my son.  She is doing her masters in family and marriage counseling – she is too smart!!  So her and I sometimes have differing views – what the books say vs. what a parent says.  I was about at my wits end for that day.  My son was being hard to deal with.  I don’t know if I have mentioned it on the blog but he has Sensory Processing Disorder – an Autism Spectrum Disorder.   Being his parent can be exhausting.  Mentally and physically it will suck the life out of you at times.  This was one of those times.  I had been fending off a meltdown all day.  I had distracted, intervened, and done the ‘please oh please don’t have a meltdown’ dance all day.  I.was.done.

So I let my sister do what she wanted to do. I let her parent him.  She didn’t do anything wrong.  But it all went to hell in a hand basket pretty quickly.  The meltdown started. 

A meltdown for a sensory child occurs when they cannot take anymore.  There brains cannot handle what is going on.  It is often a little thing that sends them over the edge.  So little that no one can figure out why that was a problem.  In reality it is not the most recent thing, it is a collection of the whole day, week, month of events. 

Every child acts out differently.  Mine screams.  Screams like he has severed a limb.  It is blood curdling and shocks people.   Sometimes he runs – like into traffic or out of a building.  He will hit others or himself.  He will bite himself and say he is ‘a bad boy, I am not worth anything’.   He will obsessively grab at his tongue as if a hair is in the back of his mouth.  He will then throw up over and over until he is sure the hair is gone.  He then sobs.  Sobs as if his life is ending. 

I am used to it.  I know what is happening.   It breaks my heart every time he says he should be sent to jail for being so bad.  It turns out people, even my sister, do not know that this is my reality.  This is my son.  This is a regular occurrence. 

Things like this happen at school, at church, at a friend house.  They happen everywhere.  In general they happen more often when he is out of our home.  This is because I control a lot of his environment when I am the boss.  I also know his cues.  I pick up on the signs that he is overloaded.  I have never managed to prevent a meltdown.  I have been able to prepare myself, my husband, and even him that one is coming. 

My poor sister was horrifically upset.  She had never seen him like this.  I starred at her dumbfounded.  How is it possible that she had never seen this?  I thought about it then and realized most of our family had never seen him meltdown.  I haven’t hidden it – but I also don’t record it on instagram.  In some ways these meltdowns are as much a part of my life as getting dressed or drinking coffee (sweet sweet nectar of motherhood).  I forget that people don’t know this.

Tonight I needed to vent about it.  If you have managed to make it through the first 650 words – here are a few more.

To the mother with a child losing their Schmidt – I feel ya sister!  Can I buy you a coffee and a donut?  Here let me take your grocery buggy back for you while you strap that screaming child into the car.  PS.  You are doing a great job handling this.

To my mother - Yes, mom, I just threw this up on the Internet.  I over shared.  Consider it my therapy…I was out of vodka.

To my beautiful sister – I love you SGF.  Someday you will be a great mom…or just that weird aunt.  Whatever.  The little dude is so blessed to have you.  I am blessed to have you – even when you tell me to calm the heck down and be patient.

To those that have no idea what it is like to have a child that is different – it is harder than it looks this motherhood deal, eh?  I know sometimes your kids make you nuts too.  All I ask is please don’t give me that judgmental look when my kid is freaking out in Walmart.  Explain to your shocked kids that sometimes people feel things differently and sometimes they don’t know how to act when it gets to be too much.   Smile at me.  Send me the silent mom vibe that says “You got this!” - even if I obviously don’t.

And lastly,


To my little man, I love you so.  No matter how many times things get wonky you keep on going.  Life is so hard for you.  I know I don’t truly understand what it is like to be in your shoes.  You teach me everyday how to lighten up, how to forgive, how to love, and how to keep going even when it hurts.  I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.  I am so glad I get to be your mom.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Dress to Impress

I was gifted with a bag of clothes for my eldest daughter by a friend who's daughter had grown out of them.  Can I get a 'woot woot' for free clothes!?!?!

Cut to a few weeks later.

After a night of many wake ups with baby B, I am snoozing in bed, while my saint of a husband is getting the big kids ready for school.  G comes in and I wake up because I sense something is close to me - I crack open my eyes and I can feel her breath on my face as she asks,

"Mommy, can I wear this?"

I see her wearing a tank top.

"G it is March.  If you want to wear a tank top put a T-shirt on underneath."

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

A few minutes later Ry walks in,

"Are you sure she can wear that?"

I am not awake enough to care about anything.  I want him to go away so I can sleep.

"As long as she is wearing a shirt underneath it is fine."

I rolled back over and went to sleep. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

G goes to school.  In a tank top.  In March.

=====================================================================

My mom was at the kids school that day so she offered to bring them home.

They knock on the door and let themselves in.

My jaw hits the floor.  I mean my mouth is gaping open as I stare at my daughter.  Who is wearing a tank top...as a dress...with sheer black tights that have bagged around the ankle.

Oh...My...

"Where are your pants? Skirt?  Anything??"

I continue,

"What...how...where...?"

It is at this point that Ry looks over at me and points out I said as long as she wore a shirt it was fine.

Well yes I did when I was half awake, in a darkened room, and she was right next to the bed so I didn't notice the NO PANTS part!

As the Blogess would say her "lady garden" was covered by little more than some princess panties and sheer tights.  That tank top just hit the bottom of her 'southern' cheeks.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING LETTING HER WEAR NO PANTS???"  I calmly say to my hubby.

"I checked with you.  You said it was fine."

"UMMMM I WAS ASLEEP.  HELLO?  COMMON SENSE CALLING - MAKE SURE YOUR DAUGHTER WEARS PANTS NOT JUST A SHIRT TO SCHOOL!!!" I sweetly respond.

"A shirt?  G said it was a dress."  He is beginning to see the error of his ways.

"That is a tank top."

After further discussion we have created some new house rules.

New house rules:
     1. G must always wear pants
     2. Don't ask mom important questions in a dark room when she is sleeping
     3.  If it looks like a shirt, smells like a shirt and walks like a shirt...it's a shirt.  No matter what  
          the 5 year old says.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

And then I cried...

November has stunk!  Like a big ole fart! Stunk like a skunk! Are you picking up what I am putting down???

Really I should be drugged up and in a padded room - the stress in my pudgy body is insane!

19 days(nights) ago I woke up to feed baby B and had insanely itchy hands and feet.  It was not gone the next morning. The next day I went to the walk in clinic to make sure I wasn't contagious. While getting out of the car at the clinic I pulled my quad muscle.  I mean puuuuuuuuuulled that bad boy!  I may have said a bad word.  In public.  Thankfully the kids were not present to learn a new word.

I was told to take an anti-histamine for the itch and some anti inflammatory gel for the leg.  Then I sat on the couch with a corn ice pack.  Two days later at boot camp I did only upper body work - because the leg was dead.  I went to get up off my mat after some ab work and pulled the other quad. Whuck! I probably should have stayed home for that week - but that schmidt is expensive.  There is no refund for fat girls who over do it and injure themselves - not that I asked(stupid me!)  I also am a goober and suck at admitting I need help or I can't do something.

Cue to today.  I am still covered in what I have now discovered are hives.  I have seen 3 doctors and taken a trip to the ER when they were in the back of my throat.  The drugs are doing nothing but making me so stoned I don't hear my baby cry at night.  So since lying on the couch isn't an option for days on end I am sober and itchy.  FOR 19 DAYS STRAIGHT!!!!  If there was a floor made of sandpaper I would roll around on it.  You would hear me groaning in pure joy to itch these nasty spots.

The hives attack at different times of day and on different parts of the body. I have had parts of my face numb, puffy lips, a swollen eye, feet so swollen I can't walk on them, and then just the general loveliness of being covered in red itchy spots.  I have cold showers and then make sure to only lightly touch my skin with a towel to get off the big water drops - no rubbing.  I have said goodbye to my beloved cup of coffee and as much sugar as I can - processed and naturally occurring.  I miss apples and coffee in an insane way.  I have dreams of drinking a latte.  It's mental!

I don't wear socks around the house so my feet stay somewhere in the range of frigid  I avoid sitting on the couch because the warmth of being cocooned in the cushions gives me hives on the tush(nothing is sacred!!!)  I am cold as I don't wear a sweater till I shiver because if I am warm I have more hives.  In the evenings I sit with ice packs on my feet, around my neck and on my arms and legs - the ice helps keep the swelling and outbreaks to a minimum. I stopped drinking warm drinks because it made my throat itch.  It is November and instead of being snug as a bug under a blanket sipping tea I am freezing my fanny off.

Yet I have dragged myself to bootcamp - at least once a week the feet are too swollen to walk so I have only made it 2 times a week the last 2 weeks.  I have worked around my buggered up quads(which are doing quite well).  I have gone with no make-up and fuzzy Texas bangs that look (gasp) cute!  I have enjoyed it - and on Monday I did a push up.  It was pathetic really but for the first time ever in my life I was able to do one push up while on my toes rather my knees - small victories people!  Small victories! It was only one.  My arms shook like mad and I didn't get all the way down - but it was one push up.

Last night baby B was up a lot.  I got 3.5 hours of sleep in total.  It's a full moon.  J-man had a very big appointment with a doctor(more about that later), J's had lots of behaviour issues at school - 6 school write ups in the last 2 weeks alone.  Miss G is feeling the effects of having a high needs brother, a new sister, a busy family business, and now a sick mama - and the attitude is pretty spectacular.  I was fragile to say the least.  But I pressed on.  I put on my yoga pants and shoes that hurt because my feet were swollen.  I did my first real push up...like ever, on Monday.  I wanted to do more even if I felt like donkey poo!

So I got to bootcamp.  I was feeling like crap.  I sucked at pretty much everything.  My feet hurt too much to wear shoes so I took them off.  I had no energy and could barely hold a plank.  Every muscle kept cramping.  Basically - the body was shot to heck.  The instructor came to check on me - I imagine because I looked like a nut - no shoes and stopping so much.  And that broke the damn.

I couldn't stop.  I burst into tears.  Right there in the middle of bootcamp on my freaking yoga mat.  Surrounded by women I don't know - and now must think I am a complete loon!  Ever tried to do a push up with snot and tears rolling down your face?  I was embarrassed beyond belief yet there was no way I could stop.  I would stop the flood of tears only to go on to mountain climbers with the evil bosu ball - and next thing I knew I was crying like a blubbery baby again.  I sobbed my way through the plank, sit ups and finally just gave in and sat down.  My lovely instructor came and talked with me - they really do have the nicest instructors.  I did the cool down stretches and then bolted as fast as my wobbly 'I did squats today' legs would carry me.  Got to my ubber sexy mom van and thought now I can cry and no one can see - and the well was dry.  What the heck????

Got home, did the mom thing, saw a specialist for my boy, felt physically exhausted and spent.  Ordered pizza - and didn't feel one bit guilty(I didn't blow my calorie amount for the day but no one would call Thai chicken pizza a health food).  Realized that we were about to run out of milk.  Whuck!  Did a quick meal plan and headed to Safeway.  I was the only shopper with a cart.  I wandered the aisles and soaked up the silence.  It was like the spa - only the cucumber was in the cart not on my puffy eyes.

Now I just dumped all this into a post - a brain dump if you will.  I am itchy, teary and drinking luke warm tea.  It's gotta get better right?  Eventually I will get sleep.  Soon I will not be ready to crawl out of my skin.  My big kids will chill out.  The referrals for my son will come through.  And I will be one skinny cut babe...or at least able to do 2 push ups.  Right?

**Tomorrow I will be sane again.  I won't cry.  Tomorrow I will deal with immunizations for the baby, and calling the school about my son.  I will make dinner.  I may even fold the towels that are sitting in the dryer for the last day and a half. Today sucked.  Tomorrow will be better.  If not - tomorrow will have wine. A lot of wine - calories be damned!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

I like big butts...

It is time.  Time to get my prebaby body back...as in prebabies - the one I had in my 20's.  How do I know this?

Well - I have gotten on the scale - I may have said a bad word at the numbers. I also see the number that states the size of my clothes - and bugger it - it's a teenager! But what really tells me it's time...my oldest daughter. 

Tonight I may have been dancing across the kitchen floor, while singing a little LMFAO.  Because I am sexy, and yes I know it.  I also may have been bringing left over ice cream cake in from the freezer for dessert.  Middle child G starts to giggle at my dancing and exclaims as only she can, "Mom you have a big bum!"

I believe that made me stop mid booty shuffle to stare at her with a 'Huh?' expression.  Hubby snorts and is suddenly very interested in his dinner.  My eldest chimes in with, "Your bum is HUGE mom!" The hubs can no longer hold it in and barks out a laugh.  Then the little angels wanting to be fair, tell Daddy he has an equally big and huge bum.  The conversation went down hill from there with lots of bum talk and giggles.

It made me really glad that I am going to boot camp tomorrow morning - even if I am pretty sure it is going to kill me.  If you don't hear from me tomorrow it's because I am dead, in the middle of the park, probably because I did one too many burpies.

The halloween stash of one child - the twizzlers are as good as gone.  Delish!

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Laundry

Okay mama's of many - how on earth do you keep up with laundry?

I am trying but holy dryer balls it is a near impossible dream.

It was manageable with 4 people and a dog but for some reason the addition of a 6 lb baby threw it all to heck.  I don't know if it is the amount of clothes from blown out diapers, spit clothes, upchuck on mama clothes, but whatever the reason if the machines aren't running they should be.

I used to do laundry whenever I noticed the baskets get full...they are always full now my friends.  I literally can take a basket downstairs and put the clothes in the washer, return upstairs and the spot where the basket was, is now a heap of dirty clothes.

It s like they wait around the corner for me to move the basket and then:

Dirty sock:  Haha, mama EJ just took down the dark wash.  Alert the track pants and dirty undies.
Soiled hand towel : Ay Ay skipper...ALERT ALERT LAUNDRY IS MOVING.
Track Pants rolling on over:  Duuuuuuuudes she took the basket down stairs????
Soiled hand towel : YES!  PREPARE TO PILE!
Track Pants: Duuuuuuuuude I just woke up, stop the yelling.
Dirty undies: HEY CRAZY CLOTHES!  What's up?  I just saw the most, like amazing headband behind the dresser.  It was like, so amazing.  So cray!
Track pants : Kill me now...get the bleach!
Dirty sock: ENOUGH!  The basket has moved, man your stations, alert your fellow clothes.  We must pile. PILE PILE PILE

Of course the laundry may be the least of my problems if I believe that dirty laundry lies in wait for me.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Because we just can't have nice things...

Now that we have three little blessings destroying our home and sleep we have had to upgrade(downgrade???) to a minivan.  Our new symbol of domestic bliss was blessed with being detailed on Monday.  My in-laws gifted us a full package detailing - as in every inch of that soon to be gold fish cracker and apple juice infested palace was washed and shined.  It was still a 10+ year old van but at least it was sparkly and clean.  As an added bonus I didn't have to pay - woot!

Being the epic super mom that I am, I volunteered to go on a field trip to the Apple Barn with a few bazillion kids.  WHY DO I DO THIS??? So I left early to drop the new babe off at Grandma's house, then drove myself on over to the farm!  I should mention it was POURING rain, as in - get some wood and start building an ark.  I pull in and immediately start to feel a little trepidation.  The parking lot is packed and muddy.  I am used to driving a civic not a tank - how am I going to squeeze my mom-mobile into a parking spot?  I end up smack dab in the middle of the lot doing the forward, backward dance to turn around.  Hello embarrassment - "No mom with the cute SUV I can't park worth a darn - move along!" I holler at another mother from school.  I am always gracious when under pressure.  

I spot a parking spot and am waved over to it by a drenched employee in a red sweatshirt.  I can't get in quite straight so I dare to try and reverse.  Nothing good happens!  As in I don't go backwards - I go sideways down the incline towards the little red car next to me.  "$^%((#&$#$)" is uttered under my breath and I am really glad none of the kids are in the van.  

Calming breaths.  It will be okay.  Calming breaths.  I will just go find J's class and learn about apples.  Hopefully the parking lot will be empty by the time we're done and I can slide all the way out of the lot. I pull on my gumboots and text the hubby to tell him "I think the van is stuck in the muddy parking lot!"Hubby is in bed with an epic man cold so due to being drugged up he takes the news well.

We see bunnies and learn about apples.  We get our pants wet sitting on hay bales as we ride out to pick pumpkins.  Finally it is lunch time for the students.  I decide to check on my van. Not a car anywhere near it - I do a little air guitar to celebrate.  (Party on Wayne, Party on Garth)

It hits me - I am in crazy muddy boots - the floor mats aren't even back in the van yet as they were still drying - I am going to get mud on and in the van - shiitake mushrooms!  The ground is too muddy and wet to wear my other shoes - I will have to get the van a bit dirty.  I then see that my wheels look like they have sunk a little bit into the mud - more mushrooms!!!!  I decide I am seeing things and I will just get in and move the van.  Muddy boots and all!

I try going backwards - no dice.  No slide sideways, no movement other than mud flinging up off the tires.  I decide I'll take out the parking barrier(tape and little post) by going forward.  Nope.  No forward motion either.  I try to rock the van forward and back - hoping I am not spinning the tires.  Nothing works.  I am stuck in the mud - IN A MINIVAN!  Say it with me - EJ, you are screwed! Mud is all over the wheels, wheel wells, and even up on the doors.  I am sooo screwed.  This is why the other mom's drive SUV's with big tires.

I climb out of the van, take a few calming breaths and then realize - I am on a farm.  Farms have men and tractors.  Between those two things somebody will get my van unstuck.  I march over to the little store - announce my van is stuck and I will need help.  I even smile - always start out nice!!  The girl looks at me and replies - "Oh...that is a blue job"

Darn right it's a blue job - "I need a man - I'll even let him drive the van if needed"  I thought I'd throw in that perk in case there was a man that needed a little thrill.  A fellow mom gasped at my predicament as I waited for a man.  I calmly explained - "No worries, it's a blue job.  They are finding me a man to fix the problem."

So much being all women's lib!  When my van is stuck in the mud I want a man to come get it out.  What can I say?  Sometimes there are blue jobs and pink and sometimes you take your clean van and get it stuck in a mud pit.  That is why we just can't have nice things!

Thursday, November 1, 2012

She's here

She's here and she's perfect.  

Baby B arrived a little ahead of schedule but perfect in every way   We are sleep deprived and trying to remember what to do with an infant.  



Her birth story is rather short.  Every mother out there will not be very pleased with me when I say I had contractions for most of the day but went about my day.  I went to Safeway, took the kids to the park, and hung out with my mom.  I would pause for the contractions and then keep going.  I freaked the cashier at Safeway right out.  I went to the doctor around 4:30 - she told me to get to the hospital immediately   I went in at 5:30 and was told I did not act like a woman 8cm dilated and if my doctor hadn't phoned ahead I would have been made to wait in the hall.  At 6:09 my water broke and the contraction from H-E-double hockey sticks hit - 3 minutes later she was here and I was really glad that I could exclaim that I was no longer pregnant!

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Thankful item #2 The next generation!

When I met my husband he was already an uncle - his niece who was a year old at the time had him wrapped around her little fingers.  It made me all mushy for him - seriously - my man with babies = mush!   The bro in laws and sister in laws continued to make babies for me to love and I now have 2 nieces and 3 nephews.

They are such fun!  When they were younger they barfed in my car, pooped on me, and taught me patience.  I have seen many baseball/soccer games, band concerts, and even a few parades featuring one or more of these (not so)little(anymore) gems.  I played barbie, blew bubbles, snuck them candies, and traumatized a few by taking them to see Monster Inc.

They are children that aren't mine but I would still die for them.  When they hurt, I hurt, when they laugh I laugh.  My children think they are the coolest people ever!  The level of excitement when I announce we are seeing them is unmeasurable.  The screams can be heard all over the neighbourhood!  

They are all getting to be teenagers - my niece went to prom last week - gah!  How can she be old enough to go to a prom???  Didn't we just go to Disney on Ice???  One nephew shaved his bieber-esque hair off to raise money for kids with cancer.  They are kind, considerate and hard working kids.  So I obviously did not infect them with my sarcasm too much.  

My nephews favourite pass time is reminding me that I am shorter than them!  They put their chins on the top of my head to rub it in!  I tease them about wearing too much cologne and am just glad that they still let me hug them.  I am no shorty - I am taller than the average female - but I married into a family of freakishly tall men - so almost all the kids are taller than me(not sure if the one niece is still shorter - she may have eaten her Wheaties and shot up a few more inches).  

I love them.  Just as they are.  And I am so thankful that I have them in my life. 

Friday, May 25, 2012

Thankful - Item #1 Sista Marcy

#1  My sister Marcy(not her real name)

My sister is like a really great push up bra!  No - she really is!  She makes me look better :)  Like a good bra she holds you up.  Got a problem - she'll give great advice(she doing her master in counseling - free therapy - woot woot!)  She also does it while looking good - she is a funky pink bra - with fringe(picture my eyebrows going up and down as I say that!)  

If someone is mean to me - watch out because she's coming at you and will punch you in the neck!  You'll be left gasping for air on the sidewalk from the lashing you receive if you make me cry - if you are lucky she only pictures the knee to the groin on her mind.  Of course I would do the same for her.  Mess with the sister-hood and you'll be crying for your mama!

She loves my babies and treats my hubby like the brother we never had - right down to making fun of his weirdo toes.  She has a quick sense of humour and may be a wee bit sarcastic like her big sis!  She grew up in the same crazy family as me - so we both think it is completely normal to build your own hot tub that you heat by lighting a fire underneath, or that smores are better when you melt the chocolate on the cracker first!

She is the only one I want to ride a run away tractor with - and then giggle hysterically that we almost died. Or as it happened - she rode the tractor and I took pictures till it became clear it had no breaks.  Then we all retired to cranberry and Smirnoff after she almost hit her car and a tree.

Love you my sister! xoxo

PS : Have I mentioned she's single???  She's going to kill me for writing that :) 

**These items are in no particular order - so no need to get all up in my face because I write about my sister before my other family members or Jesus Juke me about where on the list God is.  Chill.