No Sympathy

I have spent the last 20 years in pain, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. I think this why I have little to no sympathy for other people, even my own kid. He other day at school she pulled the classroom play kitchen over onto herself and the school called to let me know. When I got to the school at 3 to pick her up her teacher made it sound quite serious and I just said “okay.” The teacher looked a little puzzled.

Should I have raced over to her and scooped her in my arms and kissed her head better?

She seemed okay to me so no need to make a big deal out of it right?

Am I harming her by not exaggerating every scrape into a monumental “Mom will make it all better” moment?

Ahhhh... I doubt it.

Talent

Isabella is a singer... all the time.

Every... painful... moment.

I want to encourage her, I really do but somewhere in here I have to stop it and let my headache go away. We are always listening to music, in the car, on her stereo in her room, or on the tv. The problem is that she sings like she talks: repeating the same thing over and over, and then over again. I can’t take it. After a few minutes I have to walk away or ask her to stop. And then it's quiet, and peaceful  This only lasts a minute or two before she starts back up again. “I got lipstick on my eyes, stockings ripped all up the side... I got lipstick on my eyes, stockings ripped all up the side... I got lip...” You get the idea. I love my daughter but maybe we should push the dance classes a little more?

Jealousy

I am certainly not one of those people who had to be the best. I didn’t care about competitions when I was in school and even after that for that matter. When it comes to Isabella I find that I’m quite competitive and even jealous. Not of other kids because let’s be honest Isabella is the shit. I am jealous of Johnny. Isabella is the spitting image of him. When she was really little their infant pictures were indistinguishable. I am quite pale with dirty blond hair, always had blotchy skin, and blue eyes. Isabella doesn’t look a single thing like me. I can’t help but feel that I’ve lost some sort of gene race. People always ask if I’m her babysitter and respond with a puzzled glance when I say she’s my daughter. What if the next one is all me and we have to have to keep reassuring them that neither are adopted?

Letter to Isabella

Your future is limitless. I am, and always will be here for you, to encourage you, to support you, and to love you. I will teach you that the smart girls get further in life than the slutty ones. I will show you that it’s okay to spend your Friday night at home reading a good book. I will teach you about douche bags and how to avoid them at all cost. I will encourage you to learn what a doormat is and to let yourself become one, you are more valuable than you will ever know. I will show you to accept, and embrace the hand that you have been dealt. I will encourage you to talk and never hide your feelings away. I will teach you early on about bullies and show why they are unacceptable. You have a right to be happy and your dad and I will do everything in our power to make sure you always are.

5 Year Olds Are Jerks

I’ve come to realize that my beautiful, precious, little girl is a jerk. She doesn’t have that “shut up” filter that we as adults possess. While this may seem cute to others I’m not so keen on hearing the truth from the mouth of a child. “Mommy you’re getting fat” aww why thank you, you little brat. That’s exactly what I needed to hear as I stuff my face with some Ikea dark chocolate. “You need to vacuum more” well maybe if you didn’t pour your toys and crap all over the floor I wouldn’t have to vacuum as much. “I don’t want what you’re cooking” do you ever? I mean ever? Unless it’s good old KD I know we’re going to fight about food, so just shut it and eat what I put on your plate. Most people would keep their traps shut in instances like these, but not a 5 year old.

Friggly Pants

Have you ever been in the midst of your morning routine and when it came time to slip on your slacks; you had a meltdown? I'm just curious to hear if it's just my kid who finds nearly all of her pants "friggly." Pants that she picks from the store, ones that were given as gifts, and even the hand me down ones: they're all painfully uncomfortable. So much so that when she's laying on the floor rigid and screaming in protest you'd think that every morning a demon inhabits my perfect child. I've done a little looking into clothing issues with kids and found this to be a bit of a taboo subject. They're just picky, or whiny, or becoming independent in their wardrobe. While I don't think she's just being picky, I don't think it's something that's screams medicate me!! I just wish she was comfortable in her own clothes. 

A Little Admiration

I like to think that I'm a perfect parent simply by imperfect parenting. While I may be the best (not up for debate as this is my blog) there are plenty of parents out there that I truly respect and admire. D & R are one of those couples with their little guy Josiah. They follow some of my child raising rules / values and have such a wonderful baby because of it.

1. Pass your kid around - The more you stop other people from holding your baby the more you create a child that can only cope with you and you alone. Throw that date night out the window when it's only you that can settle your little one.

2. Stop shushing people - How do you expect other people to be quiet because little Jimmy is sleeping when the whole notion is stupid. You've now created a child whose sleep schedule controls the volume of life around you.

3. Take the baby out - Go out and do the things that you did before. Take your baby with you. He/ she will be comfortable in social situations and hopefully not attached to your leg as they grow.

4. Germs build immune systems - For the love of God stop making people sanitize their hands before they're allowed to touch your baby. There is a reason the kid at school whose mother carries a full bottle of hand sanitizer is sick 3 times in a month.

D & R have followed all of these things and I am so grateful that there are other families like mine out there. Josiah is one of the most delightful babies and I am all the better for knowing his little family.

Recipe for Imperfect Parenting

My personal recipe for imperfect parenting:

1 cup of laziness   "I don't know you figure it out"

2 cups of lies   "you sing beautifully, keep it up"

1/2 cup of empty threats   "every bite on that plate or Santa takes back his gifts"

3/4 cup of sarcasm   "you're right, you know everything -4 isn't too cold for a skirt, go for it"

Another 1/2 cup of laziness   "I'm watching my show, you sound the letters out"

1 cup of fake sympathy   "are you okay? you know after you fell during a jump from one couch to the other"

3 tbsp of forced affection   "they cut me open for you, I want a hug damn it"

2 tbsp of giving in   "5 more minutes then it's definitely bedtime"

3 tsp of repetition   "stop grabbing his collar... Stop grabbing his collar"

1 tsp of giving up   "hey she's finally out... Wink wink." "I'm tired now." "yeah me too"

And pinch of acceptance   "my house looks like we resurrected a mammoth and let him roam around in here... Cool"

Bones

For the last year and a half Bones has been Isabella’s favorite show. Yes... Bones; find a dead, usually decayed body at the beginning and solve the murder by the end of the show. Do I have a problem with her watching things like that? No. There is only one show that we won’t let her watch, and that's The Walking Dead. Nearly everything else (other than nudity) is fair game. We communicate, showing her behinds the scenes clips and explaining how they make dead bodies out of jello and plastic skeletons like in the doctor’s office, or putting food coloring in syrup to make blood. She’s never had nightmares over anything she sees and we make a point of explaining new things to her right away, like gun safety or language being unacceptable for a kid to use. She never repeats swear words and never gets upset about what she sees on TV. While we don’t put on HBO and let her have at it, she will come and sit with me when my shows are on. Communication is the key in a marriage and I feel it is just as important in parenting. Well there's that, and I don't always want to wait until it's late to watch my shows.

 

Believing

The Christmas season is upon us and like every year so many things have come up that have prevented us from saving for it, dog incidents here, unexpected landscaping there. We get into this rut every year, never getting each other a gift under the tree. We had such high expectations for this year but it’s one of those 2 steps, 1 step kind of situations. We always ensure that there are at least 2 presents under the tree for Isabella: one from us, and one from Santa. The Santa one is important to me, letting her have that magical belief one more year. We play along, writing a thank you note for the foccacia bread she left for Santa saying that Tanker came out and shared it with him (something he really would do). One year later and she smiles ear to ear when she talks about the note. They only believe for a small percentage of their lives so why not encourage it as long as we can?

Kissing Boo Boo's

When you’re 5 years old a kiss on a scrape can be a miracle cure. It’s only a matter of time before kisses from mom no longer work, but can that miracle cure really come back in your adulthood? My answer is yes, and as a matter of fact it’s completely reversed. On my most painful days when the thought of having to stand up from sitting is cry worthy I feel a small sense of relief when Isabella offers to hold my hand and “help” me stand up, or help me walk down the hall. I can’t say whether I really feel better, or if I’m just humbled by how caring she is? Whatever the reason the pain seems to ease that little bit when she does this. I don’t feel the need to cry when she offers a hug to help me feel better. It’s quite incredible really, how one year I’m kissing her scraped knee and the next she’s taking care of me. I like to brag all the time how great I am as a parent and how Isabella is such a good kid, but she’s so much more than that.

TLA (Three Letter Acronyms)

Today Isabella pulled a little purple card out of her backpack, a cute little thing with a nice happy face on it. When I asked her if she made it today she told me that a girl named Lily in her class had made it for her. “She’s my BFF... that means Best Friend Forever.” Wow. This is a 5 year old talking like that. It was in that moment the generation gap really hit me. While I was in the back yard making leaf houses at the age of 5, Isabella is using terms like BFF and talking in acronyms. I’m not concerned, but it seems odd to hear those words come out of a 5 year olds mouth. It really makes me think about how I want to educate her on social graces, if you will. I have heard kids saying things like “pics” which drives me nuts, the word is pictures and it really isn’t that hard to say. I know kids are quite different when they are around their friends versus parents but I think it’s all about finding a balance and about compromise. All I know is we are in for a very exciting future with her.

Parents who don't parent

Am I the only one who gets annoyed by other people's children? Surely I can't be. There's just something so incredibly annoying about kids who don't listen, or maybe it's the parents who don't parent. With Isabella in school, soccer, and dance we are always around kids, some are great, respectful, nice, well behaved and then it seems like there are even more of the opposite. These kids are rude, selfish, disrespectful little brats. These kids don't listen to the teacher, dance instructor, or coach over and over and the parents don't do a damn thing. Can you not see that your kid is completely disrupting the class/practice? To me this is unacceptable, and in my eyes you are failing as a parent. While I'm a firm believer in spanking, these kids clearly have no form of discipline. There are no boundaries, and no consequences for their actions. I may not be perfect but I must be doing something right if I have been told how great my kid is by her teacher, her coach, and her dance instructor. Apparently she is the best listener, she is respectful, she never does anything that she's not supposed to, and she's always happy. 

Part 9 - Loss, not lost

This past weekend my little family ventured out to Campbell River. Just for two days, but an adventure none the less. On our way home we drove right on past the Naniamo ferry terminal and kept on going until we hit Victoria. We stopped at the Royal Oak Memorial Park where we searched and searched through stone after stone, until we found the right one. For the first time I was standing at my Grandmother and Uncle’s headstone. It only took seconds before I was overcome with emotions. All at once I was sad, proud, and honoured to be a part of such a strong family. The dates are what hit me first. Eddie was only 8 years old when he drowned while on a family vacation in Saanich. 6 months later Nelda learned she was expecting baby number 6. Only 10 months after Marie was born Nelda passed away a few days after her 35^th birthday from stomach cancer. In less than 2 years my dad and his siblings had lost their oldest brother and their mother; my grandpa - his son and wife. I cannot even begin to imagine that kind of loss in such a short time, the strength that this family has is astounding. I felt a wave of pride as I thought of what Nelda would think now of her children, her grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. As I stood there looking at their little stone I thought about my aunts and uncles, about the legacy that she left behind. I can only hope that one day when I'm old and grey haired I can look back on my own life and family and be as proud of them as I felt she would be of hers today.

Part 8 - Doing it different

A friend asked me how my arthritis has affected my parenting and I had to think about it. There was certainly more of an affect early on as opposed to now. When Isabella was a baby we did things a little different, we did the partial cry-it-out method, not letting her cry in her crib for more than 5 minutes straight. I couldn't pick her up and put her down over and over so I just didn't. It only took a few nights of this before she slept straight through. I changed the crib to a daybed when she was only 18 months because I simply couldn't lift her out anymore; she seemed to stay in her bed all night so no issues there. I couldn't push a stroller past the age of 2 so that’s when she started walking everywhere. She never complained about being too tired to walk so we didn't have any issues there either. When I’m sore now we tend to watch a lot of movies together, or read books, or other things that aren't physically demanding. I like to give my two cents when people ask for advice but a lot of my parenting decisions are based on my own physical health. I have to remember this when I see 3 and 4 year old's in cribs and strollers. I haven’t used those in years but that was out of necessity, and while it's hard not to judge I find myself comparing my kid to others all the time. This is something I definitely have to work on.