Friday, August 28, 2009

Just makes you laugh...

At G's two year appointment, the doctor was asking all the regular questions about development and such, and I was answering like the proud, prepared parent. G and his daddy were reading a book to distract him through the mundane part of the appt, when the doctor stumbled on his words to listen to G counting to 10. He just smiled and said, "wow, well, I guess his verbal skills are on track. does he have about 100 words?". Uh... not quite. He had about 100 words 6 months ago. A 2 year old with a vocabulary that includes words like "Barcelona", "Bonjourno", and "Arrividerci", and can count to 20, has a few more than 100 words in his repertoire. Just yesterday, he went to take a bite of yogurt, looked at it, and said "that's enormous mommy". And it was. And all I could do was laugh.

Some of my favorite things he's said are so off the cuff, and of course we never get them on camera. He'll throw out an "oh my gosh" or "that's cool", here and there, but it's the fact that he's actually having full thought out comments that astound me. "I'm not going to go upstairs and take a bath, because... I'm going to stay down here and play outside". Or when we say our "God Blesses" before bed, and we get to Grandma Pearl - he looks at me and says "she's sick mommy". (which sadly, she is very sick). His compassion and understanding blow me away. Daily.

We're trying to replace "right now" with "please" - as in "I want some candy right now" to "I want some candy please". It's usually becomes "I want some candy right now please", which I think I can live with. But for now, I think we have a 2 year old that's going on 6. And I love every minute.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

The words you don't want to hear

There's a few things in life that are painful to hear. Most of them fall in the category of TMI (the too thin walls at the hotel, the detailed description of your latest food poisoning, the specifics about your latest cervical fluid), but the one phrase that is guaranteed to make people uncomfortable is when you hear "we're trying". Typically, the first thing that comes to people's minds is not the beautiful baby they are trying to conceive, but rather the act of concieving that no one really wants to think about of their friends, family, or other partaking in. But there is something worse than having to hear someone say "we're trying". Having to say "we're trying".

Maybe it's ultimately because you know that the first image that comes to peoples minds is something you don't really want anyone that isn't directly involved knowing about (well, at least I don't). But I think it's more than that. Because to many a woman, it is an admission of a challenge, or to some, a failure. It's admitting that things aren't happening the way you wanted or hoped they would. It's a way to fight back the tears when people ask you when you're going to have a baby (or another baby), and the truth is you have no idea. It announces that it's not as easy as we all think, and that it might not be in the cards for you. It can also be a way to stop the questions, and avoid the comments. Sometimes I try to avoid using those words and substitute with some of my other favorites - "that's not up to me", or "whenever we are blessed with another". I always try to keep a positive attitude, but as many women know who have had a challenge with getting pregnant, it's not always easy. The truth really IS that it's not 100% up to me, and that if we are blessed with another little being in our lives we will be truly grateful. But until then, I try to keep my responses easy going, and not to offer TMI. Just keep in mind next time, as uncomfortable as you may feel when someone says to you "we're trying", it might be 1000% more uncomfortable for them to admit it.

But whether you admit it or not, or whether you have pulled the goalie or have upped the defense... it'll be a much happier world if we all "Keep Trying"!

The only one

Why does it sometimes (ok, often times) feel like I'm the only one that can do certain things in the house. I'm the only one that can throw away trash off the counter. I'm the only one that can throw away things in the fridge that are past their date. I'm the only one that can put out a new box of kleenex... change the toilet paper roll.... water the plants.... unload the dishwasher....refill anything that has been depleted.... you get the picture. I sometimes try to have an internal challenge, to see how long an empty box can sit in the foyer until someone else throws it out. But inevitably, it ends up driving me nuts, and I just throw it out anyway. Often times this drives me crazy, often times it drives me to tears... but I try to remember how lucky I am to have everything that I do, and to not bitch about the little things.

It used to drive me nuts when my hubby would fail to put his dirty clothes in the hamper. He'd sometimes put them ON the hamper, but not in it. Often times, they'd be on the floor. One day I asked him about it - really, it doesn't take that much more time to put it actually IN the hamper. He said it was that he couldn't commit to it being dirty. It was too dirty to hang back up in the closet, but not dirty enough that it couldn't be worn again. I was impressed (and surprised) that there was some actual thought to it, so now I get it. (I may not do the same thing, but at least it's explained).

I just don't know what the value is to leave a moldy tub of leftovers in the fridge. Are we going to try to make our own penicillin?

Every time I get frustrated that I'm the only one that can recycle the junk ads we get in the mail, I try to remember that I am also the only one that can give "magic kisses" to make it feel better, the only one that gets to snuggle in the rocking chair before bed, the only one that gets kisses from the handsome guy I call my husband, and the only one lucky enough to have the family that I do. It's not easy, but I'm the only one.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

It happens.

As I looked back at some of these blog posts, I realized it's been quite a while. Blogging takes a lot of time management, even to get a few minutes to post what's happened in your day. Add to it a full time job (that is increasingly stressful), a small child, and wanting to keep some semblance of a marriage - I don't know how people do it! But I'm dedicating myself to even just 2 minutes a day - maybe a coffee break - to post something fun, funny, sincere, or just thought provoking. Now that I've explained my absence, I'll start off with something fun:

Yesterday the family all met up at Farrel McWhirter park for dinner to celebrate my brothers birthday. G of course loved being able to play with his cousins (6 & 3 y/o). They run around all happy and crazy whenever they are together. Last night they decided to go on a walk through the woods (with B as chaperone). Of course the kids are running around discovering everything - though G wanted to touch every single fern along the way once he learned what they were so it was a little slow going. Until... it happened. G discovered something new sitting just off the pathway. And like any little one, he wanted to touch it to see what it was. Now... we don't have a dog, so I guess it's understandable that this would be something new for him at the tender age of 2. He hasn't seen many steaming piles of brown except for the one time he took advantage of a "no diaper" moment with our family room carpet. So he bent down, stuck his fingers right in it and says "what's this called daddy?". It's hard not to laugh, even though your stomach is turning, and luckily they were in the woods with a nearby stream. When B said "NO NO... we don't touch poop!", poor G had the saddest look on his face. Not wanting him to think he'd done anything wrong, B tried to laugh it off and explain, then they went to wash his hand in the stream. That was probably the most fun, because it was cold, and he could touch rocks.

Lesson learned.... S**t happens. And you can always wash it off.