The search for the toddler holy grail

We had an appointment at the Children’s Hospital yesterday and since we are currently without a nanny I had the great pleasure (torturous task) of bringing both children. Our appointment was at the crack of dawn, 10am, we live in the city now so I thought if we got up by 8am we should be fine. I set my alarms and dozed off to what I was hoping would be a solid 8hr sleep. I know it was wishful thinking but I was being optimistic. 5am and the dog started going crazy, he was barking like a maniac and completely losing his shit. We tried everything to silence the beast but it was a complete waste of energy. He continued to growl and bark for the entire day into the evening because the people across the alley are having their shingles redone and clearly the roofers are a big danger to us. Anyway despite the intermittent barking the children remained asleep and I tried in vain to go back to sleep myself. I laid in bed clenching my eyes shut with pillows over my head and prayed sleep would fine me again. Just as I miraculously managed to doze off... Shane’s alarm started beeping. He is a snoozer, after the third snooze I told him he had better either turn off the alarm or get up otherwise I was going to Gone Girl him. I again attempted to find my dream world but the dog started puking all over the carpet. Finally I gave up and decided to start the day. I scrubbed the carpets and managed to pack the diaper bag before the kids woke up, of course at this point it was already 915am. I dressed the kids and threw some fruit bars at them. “Mommy something smells disgusting.” My adoring three year old lovingly informed me. I realized it was me, I smelled like dog puke. No time to shower so a quick once over with wet wipes and a clean bra/tshirt was the best I could do. We pulled in to the hospital only 13 minutes late. The appointment went well and the kids acted mostly human so when Isaac asked for chips I agreed. We got to the vending machine picked the chips we wanted and... I discovered my wallet was missing. I had left it at home in my work bag. Somehow we managed to avoid complete meltdowns and drove home to retrieve the wallet, I wasn’t off the hook though those chips were apparently essential to our continued existence here on earth. We drove to the store and scoured the aisles looking for the holy grail, sun chips. They didn’t have them and thankfully the children agreed to settle for Doritos. Apparently this particular store only carries full size bags and of course the tiny humans could not share a bag as they would risk contamination from each other. The meltdowns had begun right there in the chip aisle at the mere suggestion of sharing. I had no fight left so I bought them each a giant bag of chips and opened them right there in the store. I stuffed the kids in their carseats and all was finally silent except for the happiest toddler giggles and sound of chips being blissfully consumed in the back seat.

Another one bites the dust

We seem to be very hard on nannies. In the short time since we decided this would be a good solution for our child care conundrum we have gone through two. Our first nanny was quite lovely but not as flexible in her schedule as we would have liked. She left after getting married. We took a nanny hiatus for a while but that wasn't really a great solution either. I found myself the complete embodiment of a "Mombie" after working a few night shifts and trying to stay up with the kids the whole next day. After copious amounts of caffeine and a gruelling round of interviews we finally found our new nanny. We thought we loved her. We thought she was the answer to our childcare prayers and the vision of our nanny dreams. We were wrong. It became quickly and abruptly obvious that she lacked maturity, she was constantly telling us dramatic stories about her life and making excuses about leaving early. Suddenly she was asking for advance pay cheques and for us to loan her money. What had seemed at first to be the perfect woman was quickly turning into nightmare fuel. We went back and forth for a couple of days but finally she came to the decision that she would like to step back from her position with us. So here we are back into the Mombie, nanny search, hamster wheel. Good riddance to the last one and here is hoping the next one is a better match.

En Garde!

Today I had the luxury of staying home with my babies. This is a rare occurrence for us, even when I do have a day off we usually have doctor's appointments, errands to run, elderly family members to take care of, a world to take over (you know usual stuff). Well today we decided to be on strike. It was so snowy and I didn't want to go through the torture of snowsuits and carseats. 

I woke up at 730am to my husbands alarm blaring and smacked at him to turn it off before it could wake the kids. He somehow managed to turn it off without even interrupting his snore-fest. I laid in bed awake starring at the top bunk. Oh right I haven't even mentioned this, we are staying at my parents' house for a month while we wait for our new house to be ready. It's been as good as it can be when you end up moving home as a full grown adult with your own family. Nobody is thrilled about the situation (including Isaac he keeps asking to go to is own home), but we are all managing to keep the peace pretty well and survive each other. Honestly there has been some pretty nice perks like my dad does almost all the cooking and grocery shopping, plus my mom has helped come up with some creative solutions to the toddler tantrums. The downside is there isn't any good way to infringe on someone's space and we don't have our own things here as there isn't that much space so it means sleeping in the same room as Zoey on the bunk beds my parents got for the kids (when they are bigger). 

Back to the story... so we continued our lovely morning ritual of blaring alarm, smack the husband, alarm turns off, hold my breath and pray the kids stay asleep for a little longer. Finally after the 53rd alarm of the morning his highness rolled out of bed and got ready for the day. To his credit he was incredibly quiet and managed to leave for work without waking the kids. By 930am the blissful quiet was rudely interrupted by the tiny hooligans demanding a cereal sacrifice. Several bowls of the sugary, colourful, Pixar fish brand cereal and a couple episodes of Paw Patrol later we were allowed to leave the kitchen for a more comfortable place, the playroom floor. I tried to sneak a cushion onto the floor so I could at least not have my white girl booty freeze off from the frost covered floor but that caused sheer panic for my beasts, "Mom don't take the chair pillow! The chair will get cold mom! Brrrr, it's a popsicle." I convinced the minions to move into the living room and just bring some toys out but it meant enduring several more episodes of Paw Patrol.

When my brain finally snapped after one episode too many of the mayor losing her purse chicken and all the incompetent adults depending on talking dogs to save them I decided to engage my children in a new game. I do not know what I was thinking, clearly I wasn't. For some reason I thought it would be a brilliant idea to teach them sword fighting. They were utterly delighted at this development. Not only was I actually giving them direct attention but they were suddenly allowed to hit each other with sticks! I must admit it was insanely fun and the two of them yelling "En garde!" as they jumped from cushion to cushion was hilarious. No one got hurt, and yes mom; I cleaned up the mess.

All the Questions

I am at a point where I am questioning my life. I feel like every decision is the wrong one, every choice is incorrect, every dream falls flat. I know it is a pity party again, sorry folks. I have been having a really hard time the last few months and I need to let it out. Not like I really hold much back anyway.

My kids...
My husband and I are still pretty young (as in under 30) and have two little kids, we want more. I always wanted kids, like since the time I was born I wanted my own baby. Anyway we got married pretty young, at 21. We were both in school and still trying to figure out life but we both knew we wanted a baby. We started on the journey of ntnp as it is known in the fertility world, to the rest of us; not trying not preventing. Pretty much it gave us an excuse to not care about birth control. After a few months I started thinking this getting pregnant thing was harder then it seemed. I went to Catholic school so I was under the impression that if a boy so much as held your hand you would end up pregnant. I also had several friends who had ended up with unplanned pregnancies. I did my favourite thing in the world and entered the downward spiral of Dr. Google.

A few hours later and I came away with all kinds of ailments and their subsequent cures. I immediately ran to the store for prenatal vitamins, essential oils, ovulation tests, and a laundry list of all kinds of other goodies the internet gods deemed necessary. I happened to read that falling pregnant could take up to a year of trying so I was happy to keep going.

The year mark raced by and not only had we not managed a positive pregnancy test, but I never did see a positive ovulation test. An appointment with a real doctor was in order. After many appointments, all kinds of tests, and a few embarrassing questionaires, we came away with the answer that we would likely never have a child without medical intervention. A few magical medical cocktails, a hormonal outburst, and some very emotional moments later we discovered the most amazing thing had happened... I was finally pregnant. We were so excited I started planning and shopping, I booked an ultrasound and then the worst happened. We discovered that we had only managed a blighted ovum, no baby. My heart shattered and so did Shane's, we were devastated. It wasn't long before we decided to continue our journey and try again.

Finally on July 20, 2014 I gave birth to the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. My perfect little boy had made it safely into the world. Isaac (he will laugh), William (he will protect), Donald (he will be a leader of men). He was named after some of the greatest men I ever knew and he lives up to this name every day.

The first year of Isaac's life was everything I had ever dreamed of. He was a very easy baby, he slept through the night immediately, he was always happy, he breastfed like a champ, and the baby weight come off pretty easily.

On the day of Isaac's first birthday I found out I was pregnant again. I had hoped another baby would come soon but was shocked it had happened that fast. We hadn't even spoken to a doctor about restarting fertility treatments, we simply hadn't used birth control. I was afraid of the reality of another baby so quickly but so excited and happy that this had happened on its own. I knew this was meant to be and we could do it. This pregnancy was harder. I had a toddler running around and I had debilitating morning sickness. I had been sick with Isaac the entire pregnancy (I threw up in OR during my c-section) but it was nothing compared to this time. I ended up in early labour but it was successfully stopped and shortly after that my amniotic fluid started leaking. My sweet girl came into the world early and with a very dramatic beginning.

On February 25, 2016 Zoey (life) Vera (truth) Rose (beauty of a rose) entered the world. At two minutes old she stopped breathing and required life saving resuscitation. She ended up with a hole in her lung and needed to have NICU care. I did not even have a chance to cuddle her or try and bond to her. She was in one hospital ward and I was in another. I couldn't even see her until the nurses from my postpartum team could ensure that I was stable, meaning several medications and a few litres of fluid. By the time I did see my baby it didn't even feel like she was mine. I tried desperately to bond with her but no matter how I forced it the bond didn't come.

Ive talked about my journey with post partum depression before so I won't blather on about it again. Basically once we were home we discovered Zoey had some other problems and the treatment made her a very irritable baby. It took a long time but our bond is strong now. We are unbreakable.

It wasn't long after Zoey was born before Isaac started having seizures and although the journey has been long we have some answers for him now. He has epilepsy and we seem to have found a medication that is helping (it only took three doctors, and more medications then I care to count). We are still experiencing some side effects of this medication resulting in even more medications being needed to counteract this but it beats the constant seizures. I often wonder if his epilepsy is somehow my fault, logically I know it isn't but my mama heart can't help but blame itself.

My home
There are so very many things that have contributed to our home situation that it is hard to remember them all. We moved out very young and long before we were ready due to circumstances beyond our control. Our first apartment was tiny, dark, and nothing more then a hole in the ground. Our upstairs neighbour was dying of cancer and the pain he had meant he never slept, he spent all hours of the day and night awake sobbing and crying out from the pain. That along with the drug dealers in the apartment across the hall and my grandparents drew the line. They told us we were not living there and helped us move to a better home. Our second place was good for a long time, we stayed there until the floods hit and our landlord went crazy. She refused to repair the flooded basement meaning black mold began to grow. We were locked in a legal battle with her, she started being all kinds of whacko, from coming into our house unannounced, to unplugging our freezer with the intent of spoiling our groceries. We fought with her and stayed until my grandfather got died. When he passed away it broke me.

My grandfather and I were really close. He had been so much more then a typical grandpa, he helped raise me, he taught me so much, he did everything for me. I loved him so very much and losing him is the most difficult thing I have ever gone through. It will be four year this March and I still cry for him everyday. He was the glue that held our family together and without him we have broken apart. There is no more big family gatherings, no more cousin Christmas's, no more family reunions with crazy french relatives we've never heard of, no more developing of pictures in the deep dark depths of grandma's basement, no more garage door beeper going to tell me he is home, no more big strong voice booming from the choir loft, no more gentle hands to oil the pews or wax the floor. The things he did, the moments we shared, it is all just a memory and I feel like I lose a little more everyday.

We moved again to a new home after grandpa passed away and it never was the same. I was so sad that he couldn't come see the new house and tell me all the things that needed fixed. I was sad that there would never be a place he claimed as his in that house. It was a good house though and both my babies were brought home there.

After being there for a while we had an opportunity to try rural living and although it didn't last long or end up helping the way we hoped there were good things about it. Now we are once again in the middle of a move to yet another rental. Hopefully soon all the moving will stop and maybe one day we will own a home so our kids can have some stability on that front.

Work
Thins is the big area I am struggling with right now. I love being a nurse! It is my passion. I have branched out and tried a new area of nursing and I am really struggling with it. I haven't had much chance to work since my orientation and the few shifts I have worked have been overwhelming. I really love the environment of my new job and the idea of the work I am doing but I am not sure it is a good fit right now. I feel spread really thin and with all the things going on at home I am admittedly having trouble keeping up with this new learning curve. I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to give it all up and just be home (I know I would never be satisfied with that). Part of me wants to go back to the drawing board and reinvent myself (but I don't think I want to be anything other then a nurse). Part of me wants to go back to my old unit and refocus my efforts there exclusively (I feel boxed out there and I know some of my coworkers are frustrated with my lack of hours there). Another part of my wants to stick with this new job and ride out the rough part. I have talked with my educator on the new unit and we agreed that maybe I could have some more training at least. I don't know. I am torn. The only thing I do know is that right now I am filled with angst. I dread every shift. I am afraid of going to work because I don't want to fail. I hate this part of my journey right now. I have to figure this out.

Sorry for the whiney rant, thanks for sticking with me if you did. As my mom would say, "It's time to pull up my big girl panties and get on with it."

unicorn mom and mommy potion

It's the happy, happiest time of the year! That's right it's a holly jolly Halloween! Isaac has been waiting all year for it. He is only three, but he knows exactly what Halloween is all about and had eagerly been practicing his trick or treat skills for months. Everyday, several times a day, his tiny toddler heart breaks when he asks me if it is time for trick or treating and I tell him no. Finally the day has arrived and just like every other toddler... he decided he didn't want to go trick or treating or wear the costume he had worn everyday for a month.

After much coaxing and a few episodes of scooby doo we rediscovered the joy of all things spooky and decided to brave the mall for trick or treating. I battled Zoey into her unicorn costume, mended the Velcro on superman's cape and donned my very own super mom shirt. We drove to the mall, fought the parking war and  managed the elevator button battle. We made the rounds and collected lots of candy for mommy's late night sugar binge (there is lots for the kids too, after all I really don't like peanut butter cups). After exhausting my candy slaves we stopped for some "dewicious bunch" at the food court where we discovered even more candy was being handed out. A final round of trick treating and we decided to stop at the indoor play area. This is where I found my mom soul mate. This woman was as majestic and as illusive as the unicorn my daughter was dressed as. She had mismatched socks, leggings with holes in the knee and hair that was in that typical five day dry shampoo binge messy bun. As I was watching this goddess manage the tiny minions clinging to legs, (she managed to get them to play by themselves) suddenly the announcement came that play time was over and everyone proceeded to file out the gate controlled by the play nazis. I gathered my beasts and was vaguely aware of my mom-spiration preparing to leave. I placed my self next to her at the sanitizer dispenser and tried to make small talk and that my friends is when it happened...

Tiny child: "I got alcohol on my hands!"
Unicorn mom: "Great dude, rub it in."
TC: I got alcohol on my hands, my mommy likes alcohol."
UM: Stop. That isn't appropriate."
TC: Alchy, alchy, alcohol!"

And it was in that moment that I knew I indeed am not a bad mom! There are others out there. At least my kid just calls it "mommy potion."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

The Potato Bum

We are getting ready to move and with this comes the challenge of packing the house. We have moved many times and each time has presented its own unique challenges, every time it's been a little harder. The first move we were young and moving into a tiny 500 sq ft apartment, we owned nothing. The first little while we literally spent with lawn chairs and a cardboard box as living room furniture. The next move was a main floor house, we were a month away from getting married and both in school, this left us little time to pack or clean. On our next move I was heavily pregnant and very hormonal, it was stressful and unpleasant. From there we moved to our current house with a toddler and a newborn. The toddler spent a few days crying and asking to go home, and the baby although less emotional had a sleep regression and nursing strike from the disruption of her routine. This time it's two toddlers and a dog. We didn't anticipate this move and had gotten pretty entrenched in this house. Now it's time to go through all the stuff, gather the toys that are sprawled every where, organize the chaos, and attempt to fit our lives into the back of a uhaul. Thank goodness we have lots of help and support with packing and the actual move.

We packed all the kids toys away except for two boxes. There is a lot of stuff in these boxes; a unicorn demon thing that actually talks and drink bottles, a paw patrol plane and five different versions of each pup, a couple of puzzles, a car or two, some dollies, and finally so very many Mr. Potato Heads along with all their various accessories.

My parents were over to help pack and we were making sure the toys didn't get tangled in with other things. I had gathered most of the toys but we were missing one bum for a Mr. Potato Head. I sent my mom to find it. She dissapered into the living room for a substantial amount of time. Finally she comes back into my room, where I was packing up some clothes.

Mom: "I found the bum, or maybe a tongue mouth thingy. I'm not sure."
Me: "How are you not sure? Does it look like a tongue or a bum."
Mom: "I don't know!"
Me: "Is it red or beige?"
Mom: "Red."
Me: "That is a tongue. It's a potato not a baboon."

We venture back to the living room together and look for all of 10 seconds before I find the missing back end. It was very logically placed in the Little People house bathroom. This is the obvious choice, where else would a bum belong?

Me: "Found it."
Mom: "Oh that is what you meant. I was looking for something else."
Me: ...
Mom: "You know, I thought there was some kind of bum attachment."
Me: "What kind of potatos do you play with?!"

I still can't figure out what the hell my mother thought she was looking for.

Are you smarter then a toddler

Today we ventured out to my grandma's house. We hadn't been in a while and it was lovely visit. The kids were thrilled with the grilled cheese sandwiches and stoked to play with the ancient car collection. As per usual for us I tried to cram far to much into the day and stayed a little longer then I should have. I always seem to forget just how long it takes to put children in a car. As I was once again rushing away to our next destination Isaac spilled a few drops of juice on the sidewalk. Apparently terrified that he might drown in the minuscule puddle he was paralyzed with fear. He was also distressed at the terrible mess he had made (I guess the rest of the wreckage he leaves in his wake is ambience.) It took a few minutes of convincing him that some birds would come have a drink and clean up after him. This appeased the tiny dictator but made it him absolutely refuse to get in the car because he needed to see the birds with his own eyes. I'm not sure what it says about me that my three year old was calling my bullshit.

There's a storm coming

I'm having a tough day. I feel anxious, depressed, and scared. I am moody and my body is literally aching all over. I knew this was coming. I knew this week would be really hard for me.

We had Isaac's eeg yesterday and waiting for the results is so hard. The nurse we usually talk with was on holidays for the last two weeks and while I realize that of course she is entitled to vacation (and probably desperately needs on after dealing with crazy, overbearing parents like me), it felt like I had been set a drift without a paddle. Before she left she did touch base with us and leave a few numbers in case we needed someone. She also promised to review Isaac's eeg with the neurologist and phone us with the results the next day. Ya that hasn't happened. She is done work in one hour and I haven't heard from her. I did call and leave a voicemail reminding her (and maybe called a million more times but hung up when I got the voicemail.) In the mean time I am desperately trying to find ways to distract myself.

This morning the kids slept in late, Zoey until 930 and Isaac until 10. This wasn't surprising to me, especially for Isaac since we had to sleep deprive him for the eeg. The phone rang around 9 and I lunged for it hoping it might be the neurology clinic. It wasn't. Although that was a slight disappointment, I was thrilled to hear my cousins voice on the other side. She is one of my very best friends and although she moved recently we try to keep in touch often. We spent hours on the phone catching up. The conversation went as most do when tiny children are involved on both ends. We talked to each other over the conversation of little kids (Isaac wanted to know all about the toys at Ollie's house and Ollie was desperately trying to convince Isaac to come over.) It was fantastic and therapeutic and I loved every minute of it. Once we realized it was nearly noon we decided to go our separate ways and get on with our days.

I had spent a lot of the conversation gathering supplies to take the kids to the library and run some errands. After consuming an inhumane number of fruit bars, goldfish, juice boxes and yogurt tubes my monkeys were ready to jump in the car. It only took me about six trips to gather them and all their crap into the vehicle before I pulled out of the garage.

As soon as I got on the highway and experienced the wind gusting so strongly we were almost blown off the road I regretted my decision. I didn't turn back though, the kids would have been devastated and the tears would have been endless. So I white knuckled it and made the drive.

The library was nice, the minions actually went and played independently for a whole 30 minutes! I sat in a chair and was left alone to peruse a few new crochet books I found. Things were really peaceful until another kid dared to think they might be able to play with some of the library toys. All of the sudden there were tiny fists flying and tears rolling down many chubby cheeks. I decided to simply remove my little monsters and get them involved in picking some new books. We came home with three bags worth of movies, cds, and books.

Once home I put the kids down for naps and thought I might do some homework. I sat down at the table opened the computer and stared at the screen for 10 minutes before I realized my own tears were soaking the keypad.

This day is hard, tomorrow might be too. Yesterday sucked. This whole week might blow. Things will turn around. Until then I shall drown my sorrows in copious amounts of carbohydrates and the world of netflix. I can totally manage to finish two papers and pack an entire house for a move in the next 13 days, right?

The other woman

I posted a little while ago about our search for a nanny, well we are lucky enough to have found one. So far I adore her! She thinks nothing of tidying the house or throwing on a load of laundry. She takes the kids outside everyday. She comes in last minute when I call her and say I'd like to pick up a shift. The kids love her, the dog loves her, and we love her. This isn't even the best part... I've trained her for post seizure care, seizure first aid, and how to give Isaac his medications. I'd still like to have her go through an official course done by the epilepsy foundation but for now I'm ok with training her myself (I am a nurse who works with seizure kids on a frequent basis so I know what I am doing.)

This week marked a major milestone for Isaac and I. He has a seizure, it was early morning when he was first waking up. He was upset and scared afterwords, plus his tongue hurt from  being bitten during the seizure. I have never left him after a seizure, he is always so scared and wants mama snuggles after. I can not describe the feelings I have when he seizes, my mama heart breaks, it rips into a million tiny pieces. Watching this sweet, outgoing, adventures boy be reduced to a tiny quivering ball of tears is the heart wrenching, soul shattering, and completely devastating. This week though I felt that it was time, I know this is something we are going to battle for the rest of our lives and even though I am so not ready I need to find a way. So I left, I went to work. I put in my 8 hours and I came home. The nanny did wonderfully, she cared for him perfectly, and he was safe and ok. I can't lie though it was the longest, hardest shift of my life. I love my job, if I'm in the NICU, on the burns and plastics ward, assigned to the trauma unit, or wherever else I am always stoked to be there. I pour 110% of myself into caring for other people's children. This shift was no different I gave my all, but this time I hated being there. I was thinking of my baby the entire time and all I wanted was to be home rubbing his head with his blanket and reading stories to him.

I found the strength this time... honestly I don't know if I ever will again.

Kick me while I'm down

So I am currently facing a dilemma. It is one that many working parents face, especially if they have a child with special needs. I have developed a reputation of being unreliable at work and as a result I am not getting shifts. I understand from my colleagues perspective the frustration of being left short staffed, they are over worked and under appreciate. I know that they need to be able to count on people to show up, take over, and relieve them for the few hours of respite between shifts. Honestly though I am really angry right now. I feel betrayed. I feel boxed out, and I feel stabbed in the back.

When I started my job I was so excited to be there, and every time I go to work I feel the same way. I am lucky enough to have a job I love! Sure there are crappy moments, but the good moments... OH MY GOD they are AMAZING!! Those moments of watching a baby get better, the first time a baby can do skin to skin, the first moment parents get to see their baby with no wire, the first successful time a baby latches, the first bath, the first cry, of seeing a mom bond for the first time... I can not express the joy, the love, and the passion I feel.

I am sick to my stomach at the thought of losing this job. It is the dream I never knew I had until I stepped into the NICU but my family will always come first. Any parent can tell you that part. Somehow in spite of the hours I have put in, the blood, sweat, tears and sacrifice I have given I am being boxed out. I have worked double shifts, short shifted for straight time, come early, stayed late, missed breaks, gone entire shifts without taking a minute to pee. I know I am not the only one who does this, in fact most of my colleagues due, it is part of what makes the bonds of nursing staff so strong. Now I need help, I need compassion, I need understanding. I know it is so frustrating when my name comes up on the list and they wonder if I am coming. I know it is upsetting when once again I call and say I am not coming at the last minute. If you think it doesn't kill me to make that call, if you think I do not realize the impact this has on my patients and on my coworkers, if you think I would rather be missing work to do what I am doing you are wrong. That phone call is being made out of literal desperation. I am actually sitting on the floor with my unconscious toddler, watching him turn blue. I am counting respirations, checking his pulse, delivering a rescue medication, removing hazards from around his head, and making sure he does not aspirate the foam and blood that comes from his mouth. I count the seconds, I watch the clock, and I hold my breath waiting to see if the rescue med will work. Will the seizures stop? Will he keep breathing? Should I call the ambulance? Is this the time he isn't going to make it?

Yep I am unreliable, I am not a good coworker, I am not a good friend. I am a GREAT mom! I hope you can understand.

We got ghosted

I thought that getting ghosted was something that only happened to people in the dating world, really only people on apps like tinder. Turns out I was very wrong. We had the terrible experience of our whole family being ghosted today.

We've been desperately searching for a nanny pretty much since our last one up and quit after her wedding. It was sad and frustrating although not all that surprising to me. There were two really crappy parts to it... first my kids adored her and as a result so did I (there may have been more then one occasion I told Shane I would leave him for her), and secondly she quit through a text message (ugh millennials, shut up I know I am technically one.) Any way this search has been soul crushingly difficult. I know I am asking a lot for a person to drive half an hour out of the city and watch my children for 10 hours a day but I am only looking for two days a week, maybe more if I can get enough shifts at the three different hospitals I work at. We are also asking this person to take care of the dog during the days they are here and to hopefully be willing to switch to a city commute in a couple of months. It is a very high expectation I know, I am willing to pay decently. On top of this we have added in the challenge of Isaac being special needs with his epilepsy care. Call me crazy but when I was a nanny I would have definitely taken the job.

So back to today... after several failed interviews and even more wasted conversations we finally had found someone we thought was a pretty good fit. I had been messaging her for a couple of weeks and explained the job including all the quirky parts. We set up an interview and I got my hopes set pretty high. This morning we woke up early, dressed and fed the kids, tidied the house, and made ourselves presentable. Then we waited.... and waited... and waited.... NOTHING! Not an email, not a phone call, not an IM through the nanny board, nothing! We thought maybe she got lost. We waited an hour. Finally we gave up, had lunch and put the kids to bed. This was interspersed with toddler demands to make cookies and put up the Halloween decorations they managed to unbury from the pantry. My hopes of a beautiful angel floating into my life and lovingly caring for my children while simultaneously keeping the house from looking like a tornado struck, and walking the dog, had once again been dashed. The high hopes I had of no longer having to be awake for 36 hours in a row just to work a shift were shattered.

Guess it is back to the drawing board, or at least the nanny postings. First though it is time for sleep. I woke up and sacrificed precious pre-night shift sleep for this terrible waste of time. Maybe I will at least have some dreams of the perfect nanny... maybe I should hire the hot 20 year old manny that applied a couple months ago...

Three weeks of hell

It's been almost three weeks since our vacation that ended dramatically with our three year old having a terrifying episode of cluster seizures. During the three weeks we have spent almost all our time at the hospital, between appointments for an MRI, EEG, blood work, and repeated emergency room visits, I feel like I pretty much live there. When I am working a lot I get a similar feeling, yet it is so very different having your child as the patient. With every new needle stick, every repeated test, every new procedure and every shift change, I watched my tiny helpless human grow more anxious and more upset. Having to hold my baby down so he could be sedated or have an iv started was a new definition of hell for me. I've been through all of these procedures hundreds of times before and it always sucks to see a kid cry and hurts even more when the parents cry. Suddenly I am on the other side of this, I'm no longer the nurse that can leave the room and have a moment to compose myself, I'm no longer the health care provider that gets to check the computer and have the inside scoop of what the doctors are thinking. I have found myself in this place of absolute vulnerability, I feel naked,  alone, scared, and completely helpless. The professional side of me knows that these people caring for us are doing everything in their power to help, comfort, teach, and support us; the mama bear side of me wants to scream, yell, and rip apart every person that comes in to poke and prod at my tiny cub. Test after test. Medication after medication. We have a diagnosis. We are part way to an answer. Almost at a solution. These are the things the nurse in me knows. These are the things the mom in me hopes.

#strong #brave #mamabear #littlecub #epilepsy #epilepsyawareness #epilepsywarrior #epilepsyistoughbutimtougher #seizures #seizuressuck #albertachildrenshospital #ach #mommyblogger #bloggersofinstagram #hell #wewillgetthroughthis #epilepsystrong #epilepsymom #epilepsyjourney #epilepsylife #epilepsyfighter #epilepsychampions #seizuredisorder #seizuresurvivor #blogger

Pity Party for One

I am throwing myself a pity party. It is epic and long... since last night I have been drowning my sorrows in a bottle of wine, a package of liquorice, and a king sized chocolate bar. I spent most of the night bouncing between the bathtub full of any bubble bath I could get my hands on and the glider in the babies room while she screamed about teething. This morning I woke up and really truly did not think I had it in me to venture out of the warm, snuggly, caress of my bed. I thought just maybe if I squeezed my eyes tight enough and ignored the dog's whining for long enough I would get back to sleep. No such luck, my gremlins were waking up and dying to be released from their torture chambers (bedrooms). I pulled myself from the warm embrace of my heavenly blankets and got on with the morning ritual of changing diapers/pull-ups, digging through laundry piles, and forcing tiny monsters to brush their sharp little fangs. I threw some breakfast at them and attempted to push the new poison (epilepsy medication) down the toddler's throat. After thirty minutes of all out war and three bowls of cereal on the floor I locked myself in the bathroom and pretended I could not hear the crashes of every toy being pulled of the shelf. I thought that maybe at this point I should pick myself up and attempt to look human so my bad mood / shitty attitude wouldn't wear off on the kids. I tried on four different outfits and was beyond dismayed at how they fit (all the stress eating has turned my former oompa loompa like shape into that of Violet Beauregarde in the blueberry scene.) After finally giving in and pulling out the most potato sack like shirt I could find I scrubbed my face, brushed my teeth, and attempted to run a brush through the tangled rats nest on my head. Somehow I had gotten toothpaste on my hand and it ended up all over my hair, whatever it must act as either a dry shampoo or a leave in conditioner, right? Maybe it will be like that sun in stuff we all used in the 90's to make our hair that lovely sun-kissed (hahaha read disgusting) summery shade.

Alright well we are all dressed and kind of human looking now, I guess it is time to leave the house and interact with society. We can pretend we are normal for a couple hours. I think I will stop for some much needed caffeine on the way. I love my starbucks barista and I am sure that the $5 latte will solve all of my problems. At least that is what I will tell myself for the 30 minute drive into civilization (the city.)

The big scary E

As a mom there is nothing more terrifying then your child being sick or hurt, especially when there is nothing you can do for them. As a nurse it is painful to see a patient suffer and no there is truly nothing you can do for them in that moment. These two things added together make for the most nightmarish moments of my life...

My sweet boy has been having seizure type episodes for over a year and while we are seeking treatment for him the process is long and trying. We have not even reached the point of a diagnosis never mind a solution.

We have seen many doctors and I have heard all kinds of medical terminology and theories thrown out about what might be going on. Many of these doctor's visits I am alone with the kids because for some ridiculous reason specialists seem to only work bankers hours, this makes it really hard for Shane to come as he can not take so much time off from work (it is a fairly new company). Luckily for us I do work shift work and I have given up my permanent position meaning my schedule is fairly flexible and when an appointment opens up I have the ability to change my work hours. This in itself is stressful and can sometimes be enough to push me over the edge.

At the first paediatrician appointment I had both kids and had worked a night shift the day before so I was not at my best. I tried so hard to be prepared and make sure I could keep both kids well occupied as doctors constantly seem to be running behind. I packed snacks, juice, toys, ipad, diapers, pullups, wipes, and even an emergency candy stash. We took the road trip into the city (yes it is only 30 minutes but with small kids, post night shift, trust me, it feels so very much longer.) We successfully navigated to the office and even managed to find a great parking spot (I parallel parked without incident!!!) We were even on time for our appointment (this never happens!) That is when the chaos cloud descended on us....

We walked into the office and were greeted by a gigantic boot rack where our shoes were to be placed, this would have been great if we were wearing socks... I didn't want to make a fuss so we took off our shoes and I thought we could just make sure to wash our feet straight after with the unending supply of baby wipes I had stashed in the car. The next obstacle was the dreaded sign "No food or drink please." FML!!! While I do understand that some kids have allergies and that this is fairly logical I had not even thought this would be in the realm of possibility. A place where there are small children but no snacks?! I think this is called hell. I checked in at the reception desk and managed to find a corner for the kids to sit and play with their toys but of course they wanted the germy office toys instead. After settling in and even managing to sit in a chair without my children climbing on me or making demands the nurse found us and asked to weigh and measure Isaac. This was only slightly painful and demeaning since he would not stand on the scale himself so I was also weighed (once with him and once without).

Finally we were herded into the tiny closet like space called an exam room and greeted by a paediatrician and a med student. They both poked and prodded at Isaac for his exam but he tolerated it pretty well. Finally he was allowed down to play with his sister and the doctor turned her attention to me. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on what she said to me as I was trying to stop the tiny humans from killing each other since they both wanted the same toy. The only thing I remember is all the scary words that popped out at me... MRI, genetic testing, neuro consult, EEG, ECG, blood work, brain imaging, grande mal, petite mal, absent seizure, focal seizure, and finally the scariest word that I never imagined hearing in relation to my kids.... EPILEPSY.

Now keep in mind this isn't yet a formal diagnosis only a theory of what might be going on. We have an MRI this week and our EEG next week. Hopefully the answers start to come soon.

#Epilepsy #paediatrics #medicalmama #nurselife #momlife #scarymoments #ijustwantsomeanswers

The eggs in grandma's pink basket

As a parent of two toddlers there are so many things that come out of my mouth that I never could have imagined saying. "No feet on the table.""Stop putting qtips in your nose.""We don't use spoons to hit.""Stop biting the dog." It goes on and on. One such sentence involved you guessed it; eggs and grandma's pink basket.

I suppose to most people that is a fairly innocent sentence that means nothing but after going through a couple of years of fertility treatments, working in a healthcare, and quite frankly being a woman eggs and a pink basket really can be misconstrued.

You see the day those words were uttered my mom had the brilliant (slightly torturous) idea of taking the children out of the house. I try to pack light but with two little kids that just doesn't happen, especially when I am trying to be fugal and not buy all the snacks. My mom raised three little kids so she knows exactly how excruciating it can be to take tiny people out. As a result when we go out we try for it to be a full day, this usually involves a picnic.

Both kids love food and Isaac in particular has started to take great delight in picnics. My parents have this little cooler, it is very 90's, hard-sided and pink with a green handle. The kids love this little cooler and think it holds the best food in the world. It doesn't matter if I pack the exact same food as my mom, the food that comes out of that pink box is the most decadent, heavenly, thing and the children must have it.

One of the staples that my parents pack is hard boiled eggs. Personally I despise eggs in most forms but find hard boiled the worst, I am pretty sure only the oldest people in the world actually enjoy them. That being said Isaac has an undying passion about eggs (I'm pretty sure it stems from the hours spent watching struthiomimus stealing eggs on land before time.) Anyway, every time we go out and Isaac spies that box he demands we immediately have "nunch." We have learned he really mostly wants eggs. This last picnic he ate a few eggs and after my parents managed to sneak a couple for themselves there were none left. "Gamma I need more eggs please!" "Sorry baby, there are no more eggs in grandma's pink basket."

#picnic #getoutside #momlife #toddlerlife #qtipsdontgothere #mommyblogger #bloggersofinstagram #toddlersofinstagram #whatdidijustsay

Potty purgatory

Ahhh the sweet moments of parenthood. The bright sunshine filled moments of life. Listen if you don't have kids you are missing out.

This morning I awoke from my luxurious beauty sleep, (a full 6 hours!) to the sweet sound of my little angel beckoning for me from her baby jail. "Mama! Baba!" she bellowed in her angelic tones.

Thank goodness it is the weekend so I do have Shane home to help with the morning rush. We got both kids up and nourished them with the traditional breakfast of high fructose corn syrup and red dye number 2. We managed to caffeinate ourselves and clear enough space on the floor for the beasts to battle *ahem* I mean play.

We decided it was a good time to go for a walk/bike ride/torture filled marathon to the park. Before this could happen we needed to dress all the flailing creatures, brush everyone's teeth, and take various bathroom trips. This is where the best part of my day happened, one of those #blessed moments of #motherhood. After the rest of my troop was cleaned, clothed, and pottyed, I thought I could take a moment in the washroom for myself. Hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahaha!!!!!!! I can hear you laughing.

I: "Mama can I come?"
M: "If you must."
He follows me into the bathroom and screams at me not to close the door.
I: "Don't close it mom! The ghosts will get us!"
I don't feel like fighting this battle as my bladder is about to burst so whatever I decided to pee with the door open. As I pop a squat so very gracefully my toddler thoughtfully thrusts a toy in my face...

I: "Here mom, Zurg! You be Zurg."
M: "Mom is going pee dude just wait."
I: "Zurg!"
Zurg is lovingly bashed into my face.

And this is how I found myself playing Toy Story on the potty. See you are totally missing out.
#blessed #motherhood #toystory #whathaveidone

The threenager

We have moved past the terrible two's and into the era of the threenager. Isaac's third birthday was last week and it seems like he transitioned overnight. He is definitely not a little baby anymore. Everything he does and says is carefully thought out and mostly understandable. He even looks like a big boy these days. Here is a sample of the threenager attitude I witnessed this week...

Isaac: What are you doing mom?
Me: Sweeping the floor. What are you doing Isaac?
Isaac: Drinking my f#*@&+% milk.
Me: Where the f#*@ did you learn that? Oh crap! Shit! Jesus....

Yep this is my real life.

#threenager #pottymouth #bigkid #momlife #momfail

Mommy's Room

I am so lucky to have a husband that shares in parenthood so equally. Shane has never hesitated to wake up with the kids in the middle of the night, change the most nasty diapers, slave away cooking only to have his hard work rejected by picky toddlers, supervise bath time, play on the floor, or do any other parenting task. He is a wonderful partner and an amazing dad. He is almost always the one to put Isaac to bed these days and they have developed quite the routine. It's gotten to the point that when I put Isaac to bed he is upset with me because I don't do things "like dada does it mommy!"

Tonight after the stories were read in just the right voices, the night lights were turned on in exactly the right order, the blankets were placed so carefully in the correct positions, the toys had been kissed enough times, ugga muggas were exchanged, and hugs and kisses deployed; our little boy suddenly had a very urgent question...

I: "Dada, where do you sleep?"
S: "Upstairs in Mommy's room."
I: "No Dada! Where is your bed?"
S: "In Mommy's room."
I: "Silly Dada. That's Mommy's bed. Where do you sleep?"
S: "I share with Mommy."

Isaac contemplates this for a while but seems to finally accept it. Shane gives and extra hug and kiss and starts to gather the books so he can leave the room. We aren't allowed to leave these books on his room, it causes epic toddler meltdowns if we mix up which books belong in his room, which books go down in the playroom, and which books have the coveted book shelf in the living room. As Shane begins to make his escape and reaches the door knob, Isaac sits up...

I: "Dada? Where does Hobo sleep?"
S: "In Mommy's room."
I: "I don't want Hobo and Dada in my bed. It's too much."
S: "That's ok, we will stay with Mommy."
I: "Poor Mommy, too many things."

#poormommy #roomsharing #cobedding #whyisitmommysroom #thanksforfeelingmypain #workingsofatoddlerbrain #motherhood #fatherhood #parenthood #mommyblogger #bloggersofinstagram

All the things

It's been a busy week around here. We've had doctors appointments and birthday party prep, plus we had a big shift for the kids since our nanny left. None of this has stopped the crazy, toddler-fueled, shinanagins.

Isaac is getting all excited for his birthday coming up, he has been practicing telling people that he is 3 and doing some trial runs at blowing out birthday candles. He could not decide what kind of birthday he wanted and after a lengthy discussion with grandma it was decided he needed an "all the stuff birthday mom!" So a trip to the dollarstore and Walmart later we were loaded down with party decor from of all his favourite characters (buzz and woody, minions, paw patrol, Spider-Man, Mickey Mouse, ninja turtles, and the ever important paw patrol.) Every day since our shopping trip Isaac checks the pantry and informs me that it will be his birthday is "tomorrow mom? I get presents and CAKE!"

As for princess ZoZo she has quite a personality these days. Although she continues to refuse to walk she despises the stroller and would much rather bum scoot every where. She doesn't see any reason that she shouldn't be able to run and play with her brother and has found her own little ways to keep up with him. This week we discovered her deep love of unicorns... she found one at chapters and all out demanded it. There was yelling, big tears, and desperate reaching from the stroller. I may have given in and bought it, which lead to Isaac needing the dinosaur puzzle he'd been eyeing up since we walked through the door. I thought that it was just the colours that caught her eye but she found another unicorn today at value village and repeated the procedure. So we came home with 3 Ninja turtles, a unicorn, and some dress up clothes.

And for those that are wondering about all these doctors appointments... Zoey is a bit delayed with her gross motor skills but after careful assessment by a paediatrician and a few X-rays it has been decided she just needs some physiotherapy to catch her up. Her treatment for hi dysplasia set her back a bit but it was well worth it! She won't have any hip issues now and it shouldn't take long to help her meet her milestones.

Isaac is another story. Some of you know but many do not, Isaac has been having seizures. It's been going on for about a year. We thought they were just febrile seizures the first few times because they coincided with a fever. It turns out that is not the case and the paediatrician feels more needs to be done for us to uncover the cause. We had an ECG done and that came back normal so our next step is an EEG (which can be done as an outpatient thank goodness!) and an MRI with sedation. We have also received a neurology referral.

I guess the nanny leaving is a blessing in disguise, now I'm back to working straight nights and I can be around for all of the follow-up Isaac needs. I am so grateful that none of this has kept my spunky babies down.

Summer lovin'

Summer is in full swing here in Alberta and that means a whole 10 days (if we are lucky) of 30+ sunshine filled days. I thought it would be a great idea to take advantage of the weather and get the kids outside. We invited a bunch of friends over to come play but since it was very last minute of me everyone was busy. It didn't matter though, we could party by ourselves. I dug through the closets to find all the pool toys, bathing suits, swim diaper, sunscreen, etc... it only took 30 minutes before I remembered it was all in the garage from the past weekend. I put the baby down for a nap and took the toddler outside. I figured he would play with the dog, maybe blow some bubbles or kick a soccer ball around. That failed epically. As soon as Isaac spotted the pool toys he started trying to jump into the uninflated pool and crying because he thought his toys were all "squished." After a million attempts to reason and explain things to him I gave up and just let him cry while I inflated the pool. We don't have an air pump so I literally had to blow every toy up the old fashioned way.

I found the hose and started filling the pull which caused the tiny minion beside me to vibrate with excitement. As soon as his majesty dipped a toy in the pool the river of tears began to flow again. The water was much to cold for his tender little toes. I dug through the pot cupboard and found my gigantic chilli pot and filled it with steaming hot water from the bath tub. 5 pots later and my little prince was satisfied with the temperature.

At this point the baby had woken up from her beauty sleep and was bellowing for me. I gathered her up and changed her into a swim diaper and swimsuit. I corralled the toddler and repeated the torturous procedure with him. I slathered them in sunscreen and set those alabaster beasts free. I was immediately reminded that there were several more toys that needed inflating. After about an hour everything was fully inflated and the kids were playing happily in the pool. Pure summer bliss...

Ya it lasted a whole 20 minutes.

#summerfun #sunshine #poolparty #alabasterbeasts #imbuyinganairpumptonight

I still know how to party

It was a big weekend for my tiny monsters. My aunt, uncle, and little cousin were in town from B.C. and Isaac especially was so excited to have a kid close to his age around to hang out with. We kicked things off with a trip to Heritage Park. Great grandma even came. Isaac loves heritage park, his very favourite things are there... "Mama I found it! I found the big choo-choo! I see the ammimals! Mommy a piggy like Hobo! ICE CREAM! I  NEED ice cream!" So ya Hobo is a dog but ok besides the point I guess. The day whirled by in a circle of chaos and ended with vomit soaked car seats but the kids had fun. We ended the night with a pizza party and movie night.

The next day was full on Canada Day celebrations at Calaway Park. It was scorching hot out so we went on any ride we could find involving speed or water to try and keep cool. The kids chugged their juice and were so desperate for hydration the even choked back that disgusting poison we adults refer to as 'water'. We treated them to ice cream and the candy store and ended the day jumping in mud puddles when the rain came. Don't worry that day also involved some vomit in the car.

The final day of our kid centred weekend was spent at the local campground with aunts, uncles, cousins, and great grandma. We set up the kids inflatable pool and brought every pool toy we owned. We packed fresh fruit, veggies, and chips. Great grandma brought doughnuts and timbits. There was lemonade, iced tea, and alcohol for those who chose to indulge. We barbecued burgers and hot dogs and the kids even managed to get their hands on some balloons. Things were chaotic and loud and so much fun! Even Hobo was enjoying some extra love when he got his very own hot dog. Of course in true toddler fashion Zoey ate a few rocks and Isaac thought it would be fun to put a couple up his nose.

I guess you know it was good weekend when it is ended with a pair of tweezers extracting rocks from  a toddlers nose and hosing the vomit out of the car.

#happycanadaday #motherhood #istillknowhowtoparty #blessed

More alcohol and less boobs!

This week I had a mom-cation, well I guess it was more like the mom version of spring break but with more alcohol and less boobs. Friday Shane and I were very irresponsible and played hookey from work. Technically I didn't have a shift booked and one of the co-founders from his company was getting married so everyone had the day off. Whatever though, close enough. We took our time getting dressed up, I actually shaved my legs past the knee and washed my hair with real shampoo and conditioner (the kind you let sit for five minutes not the 2-in-1 bubble gum scented kind!) I put on makeup and an outfit resembling something I might have worn pre parenthood. We got a babysitter and dropped of the kids two full hours before the ceremony. It was the quietest my car has been in three years! We didn't even turn on the radio.

Our first stop was a child-free lunch. We didn't have a lot of time and we just wanted to be quiet so we got fast food and ate in the car ALONE! It was heavenly! No toddlers screeching for fries, no spilt drinks, no crying because the toys are not the same in both kids meals... simple silence, and maybe a few death threats because my husband chews louder than a toddler whose band-aid doesn't have the right character.

After our mostly peaceful lunch we were off to the ceremony, a beautiful, intimate, catholic mass to celebrate some lovely people I barely know. We followed this up by pre-gaming and splitting appys with a few of the other co-founders from my husbands company. Finally it was party time! We flashed back to our days pre parenthood and lived it up. After a few bottles of wine, a couple rounds at the photo booth, some terrible dancing, and amazing food, we ubered home and collapsed into bed with the blissful knowledge that we could nurse our hangovers the next day in a child free environment.

Poopy dinosaurs and amusement parks

"Mom, Little Foot pooping! Little Foot should poop on the potty mom." Yes this was the sentence my toddler loudly proclaimed today in the middle of a very long line at the theme park. He loves the land before time movies and all things dinosaur related so it's not a surprise to anyone that knows us when there is some form a dinosaur accompanying us on any outing. We are also attempting to potty train. You need to understand we have been attempting this for almost a year. Isaac is doing pretty well with it and really doesn't mind actually using a toilet these days, in fact he seems to have developed that normal human preference of not sitting in a pee soaked diaper or a pile of his own feces. He still had the occasional accident and is absolutely terrified of public toilets - I can't say I blame him public bathrooms are nightmare fuel for germaphobes like me. Don't laugh, I hate germs that don't belong to me or come from someone I am directly related to (my house might be in a constant state of disarray but you can find a bottle of hand sanitizer in every room sometimes multiple bottles).

Anyway back on track here, yes Little Foot (the stuffed dinosaur) was pretend pooping on my head and Isaac was most definitely troubled by this dark turn of his imagination. I would like to pretend that I was mortified by this loud declaration about the function of ones bowels, hell even being slightly humiliated would probably be normal. For me it was a proud mama moment because my it meant my sweet little boy was one step closer to wiping his own butt. #blessed #joysofmotherhood

Hobo at my Woody!

This was the latest crisis to strike our household. One of the most precious members of our family... Woody was eaten by the large wolf/bear that we keep as a dog. Since we adopted Hobo there have been many sippy cup and toy casualties, I even lost my favourite pair of jeans to his vicious baby teeth. Poor Woody though, he was a very treasured member of the family. Even though there hasn't been a toy story movie in ages at least not since my kids have been born, Isaac has become really obsessed with Woody and Buzz.

As I watched the tears streaming down those sweet, chunky, toddler cheeks, I couldn't resist promising a trip to the toy store. It also might have had to do with the fact that I had just finished a twelve hour shift and the drive home had taken over an hour. I was exhausted and not capable of telling my baby that Woody was ok without a hand.

After a full nights rest and a cold cup of coffee the demands for the toy store wore me down enough that I gave in and fulfilled my promise. There was no way I was paying thirty buck at the disney store for an action figure that would probably be forgotten in a week so I decided on Value Village. They always have toy story things.

We drove into the city and battled the parking lot. We headed straight for the toy section and immediately found three different Buzz Lightyear dolls but there was not one single Woody to be had. We managed to leave will a cart overflowing with crap we didn't need (including cowboy hats, a roaring dinosaur, Anna and Elsa dolls, and so much more) but poor Isaac is still sad about his lack of a Woody.

As an act of protest Isaac decided that we all needed to watch Toy Story several times this evening to make up for our failure as parents.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.... or lack there of.

Something has changed. I don't know what, and I don't know if it will last. Something is different. I am not sure what it is. This morning was hard the kids were up during the night and sleep did not last long enough. Still I woke up energised and different. Maybe my brain finally broke...

I took the dog for a run... ok fine a jog.... whatever it might have been a brisk walkish kind of thing. I was wearing workout gear though so it counts. It was just Hobo and I, we needed to get out, to breathe the fresh mountain air, take in the sunshine.

I came home to the baby throwing cereal on the floor, Shane half paying attention to her and half working on his computer, and the toddler snoozing away comfortably in his bed. The house was scheduled to be shown in a few hours and we had a lot to do to get it in order. I helped sleeping beauty arise from his intense slumber and bribed him with a smoothie for sustenance since the thought of chewing offended his senses so greatly.

Between Shane, his dad, and myself we managed to make things somewhat presentable and less cesspool resemble a house. This led to the point of us now having to vacate the premises and entertain two toddlers and dog for the better part of two hours.

I had the sudden brilliant idea of hair cuts, and although it went over like a lead balloon it was agreed too. After a ton of bribery and a colossal amount of shrieking Isaac looked less like an orphaned ragga muffin and more like a little gentleman. (I said he looked like it, not he acted like it.)

We followed this up by traversing to the dog park. We had just bought Zoey her very own tricycle and Isaac was dying to show her how to "peddle peddle, but not in the river Zozo." In an insane moment of cuteness that made my heart melt Isaac had tried to help Shane put the tricycle together. It took five times longer but I'm pretty sure it prevented a lot of cursing.

Now we are home and nap time has finally come. What the hell am I doing writing?! Clearly I should be sle....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

milky marathon of madness

This morning I woke up to an air raid siren from the bottom of my stairs. It took me a minute to wake up and remember where I was and that I indeed had birthed not one but two tiny minions ad that it was probably one of them that was making such a racket. The toddler had figured out the child lock on his bedroom door. Ninety percent of the adults that visit our house can not figure out how to work these stupid doorknob covers but at nearly three years old the toddler has got it down. After scrounging around the bedroom floor for a pair of pants (my father-in-law is staying with us so clothes are mandatory at least for the adults), I bounded down the stairs and scooped up the quivering ball of mucous I fondly call my son. We made it all the way upstairs and into my room before the baby woke up crying. Despite my best efforts it was time for the day to begin.

The toddler demanded chocolate milk and the baby was yelling for her "baba". I dragged my sleep deprived butt to the fridge, if only I can get the milk sorted I might be able to make a cup of coffee so I could fully wake up. Ah glorious coffee, life blood of parents around the world. That sweet universal language of caffeine. I felt renewed with this promise of sustenance and with a sudden surge of adrenaline driven strength I tore open the fridge door....

Devastation! That is the only word I can think of to describe how I felt at discovering the empty milk container. Not even enough to pour in a cup of coffee. In an act of desperation I checked the freezer for a long forgotten bag of pumped breast milk. There was none. A new plan, a walk to the corner store.

I pulled the wagon out of the garage, loaded the baby and diaper bag in it. Strapped the dog around my waist and battled the toddler out the door. Forty-five minutes and three hundred dandelions in my pocket later we made it the three blocks to the store. I battled the wagon inside and managed to buy milk, bananas, and some candy so the toddler might ride in the wagon on the way home. It was wishful thinking he had to walk and examine every rock.

It was fine we made it home. The walk was kind of enjoyable, it was warm out and the kids were happy. Once we got inside and settled Isaac declared he was absolutely starving and needed and peanut butter/banana sandwich. I was so happy, this was an easy thing to make, both kids would eat it, and I had just bought bananas. That is when I discovered we were out of bread....

The blessing of bathtime

Being a nurse and working in three different hospitals exposes me to tons of nasty germs and pesky bugs. I try to stay healthy - I wash my hands until the are so dry they sometimes crack and bleed, I try to make sure I eat somewhat healthy, stay hydrated, and get as much sleep as possible with two toddlers. In spite of all this I occasionally coeme down with a virus.

This morning I woke up around 5am and was sick to my stomach, again and 6am and then 630am. I had the chills, a nasty productive cough, and a sore throat. Needless to say I didn't not attend the education day I had booked at work. I am incredibly lucky to have a nanny and she was already booked for the day since I was scheduled to work. She got to our house at 8am and I was able to go back to bed. By 130pm I was feeling guilty about lounging in bed and sent the nanny home. I still felt quite sick but the kids were napping and I figured by the time they got up I would be able to handle them until Shane got home.

By 330pm the beasts were bellowing from their beds and there was no way I could pretend not to hear them. I got them up and gave them some semblance of food that could count as snack. They were both crazy hyper literally running circles around me. I felt very outnumbered and not sure I could tame these tiny dragons. "I want to colour mom!" Isaac declared. This prompted the memory of bath crayons that I had hidden under the bathroom sink. "Want to colour in the bath? We can have a crazy coloured bubble bath party!" I said with all my enthusiasm. The gremlins *ahem* I mean children agreed to this.

I can not express my love of bath crayons in words! They are the BEST invention ever!!!!! It is the most lazy way to do a craft with the kids. They sat in the tub for 45 minutes and scribbled all over the tub. The bubbles turned a muddy mix of colours and the kids were delighted beyond belief. There was no mess to clean and both kids were clean. Best thing ever!!!!  Now I can go back to bed and daddy is officially on duty. Time to go have some weird cough medicine dreams 😜

The dreamy haze of summer

Some days are hard. Some days I don't understand how parents survived the days before technology. Some days I count down the minutes to bedtime. Today was not one of those days.

Today we woke up and had one of those gooey, snuggly mornings. I made eggs and toast for breakfast while Isaac played puzzles on the floor with grandpa and Shane gave Zoey a bottle. It was all dreamy and magical. Once breakfast was cleaned up and everyone was dressed we walked to the park. There was only one toddler tantrum on the way (I think that is a record for us!) We took turns playing with each kid and running laps around the pond with the dog. On the walk home we stopped at the store for the essentials ... milk and WINE! Since my father in law is staying with us for three weeks I thought I might need to stock up the wine rack.

Home for naps and lunch at which point I actually got to sit out on the deck in the sunshine and read a book! A real book! Not a picture book! There were no cartoon characters or rhyming verses!

Dinner was had and Shane tackled bathtime leaving me with time to watch an episode of scandal I pvr'd several weeks ago. I drank that whole delicious bottle of wine, watched tv, finished my book, and the only price I paid was a sunburn!

#wheredidmycrazypeoplego #mommyhadalonetime #anovelandgrownuptv

Death by Doorbell

Today was one of those mundane days. No one was available for a play date and the kids were tired from our busy weekend. I decided to stay home and catch up on laundry mountain. Shane had warned me he needed to work late so I'd be on my own for all three meals with the kids.

This morning started very productively. I got the kitchen cleaned and a few loads of dishes done, (yes I bought dish soap, I would have rather thrown all the dishes out and used paper plates for ever but that annoying voice known as a conscience wouldn't let me.) I changed the water in the fish bowl, it was starting to smell and the bowl had turned green. Of course the fish fell into the sink and was laying there flopping around. After some squealing and gagging I managed to suck it up and rescue our precious fishy. The toddler would have been devastated if poor Orange went to that great toilet bowl in the sky.

Finally I could put the baby down for a nap and let Isaac play on the iPad. This is a very precious time of day as I can usually scarf down some food and a warmish cup of coffee before Isaac demands my undivided attention. I had just managed to find a comfy spot on the couch and put my coffee cup in the vicinity of my mouth when the doorbell rang. I wasn't going to answer because I wasn't sure if I could see past my blind rage that someone woke up the baby. Unfortunately between the crying from the nursery, the dog barking at the door, and the toddler waving through the window there was no way I could pretend not to be home. Alas nap time was not to be.

A few hours and another disaster of a meal later I decided to attempt nap time again. Zoey was down and I was just about to take Isaac to his room when Hobo needed out. Isaac decided this was a great time to take his pull-up off and pee on the floor. I was so proud of myself I calmly cleaned up the mess and explained that we only pee on the potty when I heard Isaac madly giggling and Zoey crying. Isaac had run into the nursery and climbed into the crib! I wanted to be mad but Isaac was hugging Zoey and saying "It ok ZoZo! I gots you! Don't cry ZoZo." My icy heart melted and just like Elsa I "let it go".

Both kids were up for another half hour before I finally succeeded in getting them down to nap. Finallly I could get some laundry done. Hahahahahahahaha just kidding, I collapsed in exhaustion and watched old episode of Law & Order.

The torture known as nap time

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I like being lazy. I let my kids watch far too much tv. I bribe them with the ipad so I can pee behind closed doors, alone! I don't really fight with them about food, as long as they eat something that resembles healthy food during the day. Along with this comes the strict enforcement of nap time. Mama needs a break.

Zoey is easy to put down, being a second child she was a little ripped off when it came to a bedtime routine. We have started reading her stories at night time now, it is really lovely to sit with her and snuggle in the rocking chair in her nursery while she drinks her bottle. Plus she is little enough she really doesn't care what we read, I have definitely been known to read a magazine or some of my novel instead of a picture book... so much less boring.

Isaac however, oh my god! Putting him down is such a production. He is incredibly finicky about everything. First he throws an epic tantrum at the mere thought of impending nap time. This is followed by bargaining about how many drinks of juice and what kind of food he needs before he can possibly go to sleep. He might starve if he does not binge before his 2 hour long hibernation. This is followed with many promises of what we will do after nap time, hello he needs something to dream about. Finally I am allowed to carry his royal highness downstairs to his room.

If you thought it stopped there you are hilarious and far too optimistic. Clearly you have not had the pleasure of putting a toddler to bed. Now that we have arrived in his room and the dog has found a comfy spot to fall asleep we must peruse every storybook we own so Isaac can demand I read the same three stories we have read for the past six months. God help me if I say a wrong word, read too fast, too slow, or use a different voice then his father did three nights ago. After reading these stories, that I have had to start over approximately six hundred times as punishment for not reading them correctly, I am required to sit in his room while he squeaks a rubber dolphin in his "peek and squeak" book (I had better not attempt to read it or rush him through this ritual.) Next comes his colours book, we must review all the colours and discuss everything in the universe that might be that colour. Finally I may tuck him in by rubbing his head with one of the satin edged blankets his grandma made him and covering him with the mountain of other blankets he has collected on his bed. He is a blanket hoarder and is always finding more even if I hide them. I am required to put all his books away in their rightful places and now I can attempt to leave. This is usually followed with demands for another kiss and hug for him and of course for every single stuffed animal he owns. As I leave the room I have to wake up the dog and haul his eighty pound butt up the stairs.

Why don't I just stop this nonsense and make him go to sleep? Why don't I simply let him throw a tantrum? He would learn. You are correct on all of these points but then my quiet time would be loud, the baby would wake up, and this is just easier. Have you ever fought with a toddler? You always lose.

#soblessed #Idonegotiatewithterriorists #Ijustwanttotakeanap

The trike ride of tears

I got a very restful four hours of sleep last night and felt quite refreshed, ready to take on the world. I thought it would be a great day for a family outing to the dog park. Isaac has been begging to ride his bike like a starving child in Africa begs for clean water. We had family camping nearby so we decided to meet up with them at the campground before tackling the trail of toddler tantrums. I packed everything I could think of to make sure we were really prepared. Bicycle, helmet, carrier, sunscreen (both spray for adults and the lotion kind for the kids), water bottles, snacks, diapers, pull-ups, wipes, a soccer ball, a mini football, bubbles, side walk chalk, buckets and shovels, even picnic blankets to sit on. I felt fully prepared.

We got to the campground and the kids were so excited! The dog was ready to go! We started on our lovely walk and it quickly turned into something from a nightmare. Isaac was sure he was going to fall in the "wivey"despite the fact that his trike is the kind with a handle and an adult was holding on to it the entire time. "Mom, no! Mom, help me! Help me mom! I don't want to go in the wivey mom!" A few minutes into the ride Isaac declared his famous, "Phew that was a close one mom, I'm ok."

Hobo was having the time of his life chasing anything with four legs. He was so excited he started frothing at the mouth. Great now everyone thinks my dog has rabies. Oh well, he is a hot mess like the rest of us. I do always say he is my spirit animal because he is constantly laying around taking naps and stealing food so I suppose this fits right in.

Zoey struggled in the carrier, she was plastered to Shane's sweaty back and was probably feeling quite suffocated. I guess she thought the dogs would help her because she decided to growl and bark at everyone.

Isaac, as usual, felt the need to dictate which way we should go. When we would go the opposite way he simply would say, "No I want to go that way! Ok I want to go this way." He also decided he needed to continuously yell for Hobo to ensure his precious doggy didn't get left behind. "Don't say bye to Hobo mom."

It wasn't long before the trike was the most evil invention ever and Isaac needed out to stretch his legs.  We decided to let him walk and give Zoey a turn in the trike. She loved it. Isaac hated that she was in enjoying his most prized possession and threw an epic tantrum. He didn't want to ride but he didn't want Zoey to ride either. After a few minutes of screaming his tiny toddler body was completely worn out and he could no longer support his own weight. He needed carried, of course the large father type person that was with us was not allowed to touch him. Obviously daddy was currently the devil and only mommy would do. I was prepared for this and only agreed to carry his majesty if he would go in the carrier (also known as the child back pack.) He didn't really agree to this but after a few minutes of serious contemplation he decided it would be ok. He spent the rest of the walk demanding snacks I did not have.

We finally got to the playground (or "parking lot" as Isaac so fondly calls it) and I thought I could finally take a break. My shirt was soaked with back sweat from hauling a thirty pound toddler in the carrier. I felt my lungs burning and my muscles about to give out. I got to sit down for all of thirty seconds before it was discovered that, according to Isaac, daddy was too big to play and only mommy could fit on the slide.

The walk back was filled with tantrums from each child as we alternated them in the carrier. I negotiated with the tiny terrorists so I could get back to the campground. The second we finally got back and bribed them with processed cheese and salt in the shape of goldfish the gremlins were satisfied.

There was a whole thirty minutes of bliss before both children started drinking out of the dog bowl.

Be brave

Ok guys fair warning, this could get a bit mushy.

This time last year was when I was finally forced to face the fact that I needed help. I knew things were not really ok, I knew it was more then postpartum blues. I was really afraid though. Isaac was having seizures and Zoey was going through a really colicky phase. I was afraid that if I asked for help I would seem incompetent and my babies would get taken away. This maybe should have been a sign for me, after all I work with social workers almost every day. I know why kids are removed from their homes and I know that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. Still I was so afraid to show this side of myself, the hot mess mama who thought that her kids were going to simply drop dead for no reason.

I waited so long and struggled so hard to have my babies I knew they were going to get taken away somehow… I just felt like they couldn’t possibly be mine to keep.

I’m sure a lot of people close to me were noticing the struggle I had but I was working really hard to hide it. There was one person in my family who was brave enough to speak up and tell me it was time to get some help. She babysat my kids and made me go to the doctor. She has been my rock and my support for a lot of things that I just felt other people wouldn’t understand. She has listened to me cry about the most ridiculous worries, like how obviously we can’t go anywhere because the toddler will get kidnapped by human traffickers. She has let me complain about my husband and how he never comes home on time, obviously this means he is having a sordid affair with some young hot thing in all his spare time. She has shared countless bottles of wine, rum, and other “mommy juice” with me.

So to this awesome auntie THANKYOU!!! Thank you for making me a better mama, thank you for helping me find myself, thank you for helping me to know that I don’t have to go back to a pre baby body. I love you!

Excuse me I think there is some goldfish dust in my eye. *Sniffles*

Mommy the door is killing me!

Today was beautiful outside and the kids were driving me crazy so we decided to get out and brave the zoo. Luckily I had a friend coming along. This should make things easier! Really it won't matter that the wagon is in the car shane took to work we can make it with a single stroller. Isaac likes to walk at the zoo. If he decides he needs to ride I can just put Zoey in the carrier. Perfect, ok here we go. I will pack lots of snacks we can get ice cream for a treat and we will be good. Getting in the car was surprisingly uneventful and the drive into the city was going well.

Once we got into the city I suddenly blanked on where I was going. Um hello I've only been to the zoo a million times! How is it possible I suddenly couldn't remember the way? It's ok the two year old knew. "Mom, no! It's the wrong way mom!" Well he wasn't wrong and once we got turned back around on the right road "Phew, that's a close one mom! We were almost lost forever." Ok I think that's a little dramatic but ya sure it's a good thing you were there Isaac I never would have found my way without you 🙄.

We got to the zoo and things went great until Isaac decided he needed to rebel and go in an out door. The sensor didn't pick up his giant toddler head and I was not fast enough to grab him. The door squished him leaving him with the strangest line going down the middle of his whole body. This of course led to a lot of screaming. "Help me mom! Don't leave me! Mommy the door is killing me!" *Sigh* I don't know where he gets it.

Menopausal furnace

Finally a day off! I think I might enjoy sleeping in and read a book, maybe even indulge in some tv... hahahahaha just kidding I have kids!

I woke up to a freezing house because the furnace we had serviced less then two months ago has decided it is going through menopause and only works during hot flashes. After some troubleshooting and many frazzled calls to my dad we decided it would be best to call in the professionals. Of course this means there are actual human people coming to my house so I better actually put on a bra and at least clean up the dishes from last nights dinner.

My attempt to do a quick load of dishes was immediately derailed when I discovered our lifetime supply of dish soap from Costco had run out. FML! Ok Whatever I can hide the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for now. Oh wait, just kidding, the dishwasher is full of bathtub toys from the poop incident. This means two things; 1. The dishwasher is full and i will have to leave the dishes in the sink meaning I had better attempt to balance that mess by wiping down the high chairs. 2. I would have discovered our dish soap crisis sooner if I hadn't been to lazy to turn on the dishwasher.

Alright fine on to the high chairs. I started to wipe them down and realized they were pretty crusty and probably could use a good soak in the tub. This was a mistake on so many levels. First off it made Isaac cry, "Mom my heart is sad. It is crying mom. My high chair went away." Um ok cool, I had no idea that he was emotionally attached to the high chair that is clearly his surrogate mother as he is so neglected. Also this lead to discovering the grossness underneath the chairs. They are the booster kind that attach to real chairs. How does so much crap get under there? When did they stick toys in there? How did they get so many stickers? Now I was stuck cleaning the chairs which led to the floors needing swept. Once the crumbs and dust were swept away I could see how many sticky spots were on the floor and was forced to wash it. This is always a terrible idea because Isaac thinks it is hilarious to run through the freshly washed spots and leave his sticky foot prints. This always leads to me washing in circles and finally giving up leaving the floor always looking unwashed. Is 1030 to early for wine?

14 months is new...ish

This week's ridiculousness...
Monday the UPS lady rang the bell. I answered the door in my pajama onesie, hair in a messy bun, and teeth not brushed. The kids were napping but Zoey started to cry when she heard the bell. "New baby?" She asked. "Sounds like an awfully little cry." I lied and nodded my head. It was 1pm, I didn't need her judgement. #noshame #judgeyupslady#14monthsisnewish

Tuesday Zoey had a doctor's appointment, she is still refusing to stand or walk. I woke up early, showered, brushed my teeth, and even found clean leggings and tshirt (it might have been Shane's tshirt, mine were all in laundry mountain.) I even managed a cup of coffee and some yogurt before the beasts began to bellow for me. I got the kids up and dressed in decent clothes and sat them down to a nutritious breakfast of processed sugar and food colouring in the form of lucky charms. We were doing great for time so I took a few minutes to indulge Isaac by painting his toenails and putting on minion stickers for him. This led to Zoey demanding her toes done too. I managed to get the dog in his kennel and children in the car with only one minor hiccup, Isaac wouldn't leave the house without his flipflops, apparently the running shoes with dinosaurs and flashing lights simply wouldn't do and clearly were causing his feet to be crippled. We were doing so well, only five minutes late. I even got a great parking spot, right up front! The walk into the clinic from the parking lot was torturous, Isaac's shoes kept falling off, Zoey kept throwing her doll and I was stupid enough to leave the stroller at home. After 10 minutes of this epic struggle and a meltdown from all three of us, I decided it would be easier to just carry all the things. I had the diaper bag, overflowing with snacks and distraction toys, slung over a shoulder and Zoey on my hip. I picked up Isaac in a football hold and managed to grab his flip flops with my pinky. At this point I ran for dear life into the clinic as I thought we might be too late for the appointment, oh and also I might drop the 50lbs of children. Once we finally got checked in and settled in the corner with the germ infested toys I sat down to take a breath. I realized I forgot my water bottle in the car and I would not survive the journey back to get it. I picked up Zoey's sippy cup and took the lid off, I took a big swig of apple juice and that is when I noticed all the old ladies scattered around the waiting room looking at me like I was a monster. I didn't have time to dwell on it or bask in the warm familiar glow of judgement because my tiny dictators were yelling at me demanding that I sit on the floor with them. They didn't want to actually play with me but sitting in the chair was apparently much too far away for them. The doctor was running behind and our appointment was an hour late. We got back home but of course both kids fell asleep in the car on the way back, so much for naps at home. I had to get ready for work but the kids were both cranky and demanding. Finally the nanny came. This gave me exactly 4 minutes to get ready before I had to leave. I hadn't eaten anything since the yogurt this morning. I threw a grilled cheese on the stove and attempted to find a clean pair of scrubs. I rushed out the door, grilled cheese and Coke in hand, got to the car and realized I didn't have my keys. Returning to the house made both kids cry at the realization I was going to work all over again. I got back to the car, and settled in realizing I didn't have my phone. I thought about leaving it, I really did, but I panicked thinking if I left it some disaster would happen and I wouldn't be reachable. I faced the wails of my people and got my phone. I was rewarded with sloppy toddler hugs and kisses. Finally I got to work and started my shift, it was during my first assessment of the night that a patient pointed out the Nemo sticker in my hair and the grape jelly on my scrubs.
#soblessed #trenchesofmotherhood #ireallydolovemylittles#howisitonlywednesday