Weekly Photo Challenge: Love (A boy and his dog)
I took this picture of my son with his stuffie a few years ago and it remains one of my very favorites. Rather than explain the relationship between a boy and his dog, I will re-post what I wrote about it last year:
B got Dogga for Valentine’s Day when he was 14 months old. It was love at first sight. Dogga became B’s “lovey“. Dogga came on the airplane, into the bathroom, to the park, to the beach, to playgroups, in the car and in the stroller. Dogga saw every first and many lasts. I’m a bit of a wild driver and once when B was barely two I had to slam on the brakes. B yelled, “hold on, Dogga!” from the backseat. I’m surprised he doesn’t have his own car seat.
Dogga has the power to heal cuts, dry tears, scare away monsters and cure loneliness. Dogga is magic. Dogga is practically alive.
Once we realized how important Dogga was we started looking for an extra, just in case. Fast forward a few years and now there are six. The original Dogga had his nose chewed off so “went to keep Grandpa’s dog company” on the farm. Now we’ve got Present Dogga (he appeared under the Christmas tree with a red bow), Girl Dog, Daddy Dog, Mad Dog (the way the fur goes over his eyes makes him look mad, according to B), Scottie Dog and Other Dog.
I’ve noticed the dogs are sometimes left behind now. They always come out for morning snuggles and quiet time. They always go outside for trampolining. They come on long car trips. They don’t come to the store anymore. They don’t come to the beach in the bike basket. They didn’t go to daycamp.
A year from now, B will be heading off to full-day kindergarten and the long, crazy days with two tiny ones at home will be over. Now that a change is approaching I understand what the kind grandmas in the grocery store mean when they say, “Treasure the moments. This is the best time in your life.” Even though some days are like a long, uphill (whining, screaming, chaotic) marathon, this time is fleeting. The tough parts fade away and what is left is beautiful.
Another blogger was kind enough to nominate me for a Top 25 list at Circle of Moms. If you’d like, click the link below, scroll down to Murphy Must Have Had Kids and vote each day until February 13th. 🙂
Just Keep Swimming (Murphy’s Law #15)
Murphy’s Laws of swimming with a toddler:
- Now I know why children wear swim diapers. Those things really work. Note to self: Next time don’t leave the baby wipes in the car.
- It is near-impossible to prevent a child who has just mastered the skill of running to not run on a slippery pool deck. Ear-splitting screams travel very well in a large pool facility.
- I was a little naive thinking we’d chill out in the toddler pool all morning. There were 4 small pools, including the hot tub. We visited each pool approximately 15 times. So much for hiding my I-have-two-children-with-me-24-hours-a-day-and-I-really-am-too-busy-to-work-out self in the water. Nope. My daughter paraded me up and down and around those pools for 90 minutes straight. I knew I should have invested in one of those bathing suits with the skirts. 😉
- My toddler loved the little yellow slide into the baby pool. Why sit and slide down carefully when you can hippity-hop down? *shudder*
- Fear? What’s that? I took my eyes off her for 2 seconds to grab a floating fish out of a bucket and Whoosh! Baby under! Momma-reflexes are amazing.
- The best moment was when my daughter looked towards The Big Pool and saw our next door neighbour doing aquafit. The smiles and shouts she sent across the room were enough to make the whole class stop stretching to see the little girl creating such a ruckus.
I’ll take my fearless child to the pool any day.
These wild, heart-stopping, joy-filled moments make the no-paycheck and no-time-alone parts of being a full-time momma…no big deal.
A fellow blogger was kind enough to nominate me for the following Top 25 list of Funny Mom Bloggers (even though I’m only sort of funny, some of the time).
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Please click the link, scroll down and vote (every 24 hours) for Murphy Must Have Had Kids. It’s very easy to do. Voting goes until February 13th. Thank you!
Weekly Photo Challenge: Beyond
My daughter, navigating her rickety wooden ship into the wintery waters of the Pacific.
The Big Pool
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)
My little guy had his first swimming lesson in the big pool this afternoon. Until now, he’s been in the kiddie pool, in swimming groups named after water animals. He hated Starfish, goofed around in Duck and really mastered Salamander. I knew things may change a little when I registered him for the official-sounding Swim Kids One. He turned five this week so it seemed fitting that things might get slightly more serious.
He wore his red Lightening McQueen bathing suit, little knees knocking together and tiny goosebumps marching down his arms as we walked to the pool deck and scanned the list for his name. A chipper teen named Alix was the teacher. Two shivering, bouncing five-year-old boys were already there, water up to their necks. My brave guy jumped in and radiated that unleashed, uninhibited joy that only children in the water have.
I sat on the wooden bench and watched. Within moments, he was gliding away from the wall, fully submerged for a few metres until his blonde head popped up, revealing a sputtering, mile-wide grin. I got a little sentimental and felt maybe a fraction of what I’ll feel when he heads off to school in the fall: so delighted that he is independent and confident but a tiny bit sad that I’m not needed quite so much.
I looked away for a few minutes and enjoyed a moment of not being responsible. When I looked up his blissful smile was gone and his lower lip was out in a full-on quiver, his blue eyes fighting tears. The teacher mouthed to me, “He’s got a stomach ache” as my boy reached out his arms, wanting me to wrap him up in his brand-new shark towel and hug away the pain. We walked together to the family change room. He sat on my knee and I rocked him as I had rocked him for hours and hours in the years before, the water soaking through the towel and staining my jeans. We sat for ten minutes like that, he and I.
I’ve never raised a five-year-old before. I’ve taught many of them, but having my own is a different experience all together. It’s like a tug-of-war, a constant pushing away and pulling back. Mommy, I need you. Mommy, I don’t.
This must be the beginning of the letting go. Some days I’m desperate to let go a little. The endless “Mommy, mommy!” The steady rivalry with his tiny sister. Other days, days like today, I savour those long, soaking-wet hugs in the change room.
Scary Mommy & Me
One of the first things I’ve said as a new blogger is that I’d love to have a post shared on Scary Mommy. Well, today is the day. 🙂 Check out a (slightly edited) version of my Driving With Kids post here.
Top 5 signs your husband has gone back to work after Christmas vacation
My husband went back to work this week after a 10 day vacation. Aside from missing him (because he’s a wonderful guy) I realized I felt a little edgy for the first few days he was back to work. Suddenly I was outnumbered again! A few things made me realize our vacation was over:
- No more sleeping in and nap trade-offs each day. On vacations I take the mornings and hubbie takes the afternoons. We both get actual sleep and are both happier to boot. When vacations are over, this luxury is kaput and we are back to maybe five or six hours/day of sleep each.
- I actually have to think about supper before 4:55pm each day. When two adults are in the house, one wrangles children while one cooks, cleans & does laundry. When it’s just me I actually have to (sort of) plan these things out in advance. We can’t have waffles for supper every night, as much as my kids would love it.
- I have an audience in the bathroom again. When my husband is home I can go to the bathroom alone. When he is at work, the bathroom is a public place with inquiring eyes and poking fingers. The genius who lived in our house before us decided to rig all the doorknobs so that no door actually latches. If I want privacy in the bathroom I have to contort myself so one leg is pushing against the door at all times.
- Showering isn’t guaranteed. I managed to get in a quick shower and an even quicker blow-dry today. No chance of using a straightening iron, that’s for sure. Living on the west coast, most days I can rival Monica in that Friends episode where she goes to Barbados. 🙂
- Getting out of the house in the morning takes two hours. Wrangling my beautiful 18 month old daughter into her clothing takes a team of people. She doesn’t mind that her diaper is lopsided, clothes mismatched and hair a puffy cloud that matches her Mommy’s. When her Daddy is around she gets colour-coordinated outfits and (an attempt at) pigtails.
At 5:15pm the magical sound of my husband’s key rattles in the lock. I breathe a sigh of relief. Back-up has arrived!
p.s. If you are a single parent or your partner works away from home a lot, I bow down to you.
p.p.s. If you have more than two children I bow down to you too. I’m not sure I could handle being chronically outnumbered. 😉
10 Reasons Why Driving With Kids Should Be Illegal (Murphy’s Law #14)
Driving to and from the grandparents’ house for Christmas vacation got me thinking: It should be illegal to travel with small children in the backseat of a car.
The distractions caused by children far outnumber any minor diversions caused by cellphone use, hair brushing or newspaper reading while driving. I cringe when I think back to some of the journeys I took while running on three hours of sleep in the months after each child’s birth. The police should stop wasting time ticketing speeders and phone-talkers. Sleep-deprived mommas are where the real money is.
Murphy’s Laws of driving with little kids:
- Even though you have purposely played only non-toddler music in your car for two years, Murphy’s Law says that the day you have a long journey to take is the day you accidentally put in a Raffi CD. Your children will sing Baby Beluga at the top of their lungs on every car trip you take for the next three years.
- Before you start the car, each child has a favorite toy in hand. As you back away from the house someone flings a toy across the car and needs you to reach back and pick it up.
- Before you back out of the driveway, the old DVD player is dusted off and plugged in.* The light in the cigarette-lighter-plug shines bright red as you start Toy Story 3. Once you’re on the highway a child kicks the DVD player, loosens the plug and makes the red light turn off, causing you to swerve all over the mountain road (*shudder*) to try to re-start it.
- There will be vomit involved. Just please, please don’t do what a friend of mine did. A dad I know was cleaning up a stinky mess and ended up shirtless, with a naked toddler, in a parking lot at night. Yikes.
- Don’t even tempt yourself with the idea that your children will sleep the whole way. If they do fall asleep, it will happen fifteen minutes before you arrive at your destination, thus nixing any possibility of a real nap that day.
- Before the car is in reverse, each child has a snack within reach. As you drive away, one child drops a snack and needs you to stop the car to retrieve it. Every time you pass a snack to the backseat someone will complain, “Why did she get more Mini Wheats than me?” or “Why did he get his banana first?”
- At the beginning of your journey each child has a sippy cup in hand. Just as you are merging onto the highway, your toddler flips her cup upside down, gleefully shouting “Shower! Shower!” while drenching herself with milk.
- It goes without saying that you will stop for a bathroom break. If possible, have a boy before a girl. When you are travelling without backup (i.e. a husband or grandparent) and your firstborn needs to relieve himself, you can simply pull over to the side of the road; no need to drag a sleeping baby sister into a nasty truck stop bathroom.
- Just when everyone settles down and you relax a little with your coffee, the steady refrain of “ARE WE THERE YET?” starts. You are not even a sixteenth of the way there yet.
- If your baby starts the trip happily sucking on a soother, it will eventually be flung to the muddy, Cheerio-covered floor. First option: Stop the car, pick up the soother and wash it with a baby wipe. Second option: Drive with one hand and crane the other arm backwards to hold the soother in the wailing child’s mouth. For five months my daughter screamed from the moment the car started until the moment it stopped. I did what I had to do to survive.
These laws apply only to one or two-hour trips to grandma’s house. For longer trips, take a plane.
*No, I do not have a minivan with built-in DVD players. I will never own a minivan.
Weekly Photo Challenge: My 2012 in one picture
As a full-time momma of an 18 month old and an almost-5 year old, my 2012 revolved around cuddling, chasing, refereeing and laughing with my children. This picture captured a moment in mid-2012 when the chaos paused, the crying ceased and the whining quieted. I was reminded of why I do this…why I wanted two, why I feel so blessed to have both a boy and a girl. I’ve got thousands of pictures I could have chosen but this one seemed to sum it all up.
What Your Toddler Really Wants For Christmas
While roaming the aisles of a big-box toy store the other day, I realized that my 18 month old daughter could care less about 99% of the stuff for sale. I know what she wants for Christmas and it’s not a dolly that sits on the toilet or a pink plastic household appliance. Here’s a list of what every toddler really wants to see under the tree:
- A Kleenex box. The biggest one you can find, with the cardboard piece already ripped off the top. Free reign to pull the tissues out when she pleases, shred into tiny pieces and fling around the house.
- A box of Christmas oranges to dump, line up and move in and out of the box to her heart’s content.
- A toothbrush to chew as much as she wants, swirl in the toilet and poke her big brother with.
- Her own roll of tape. She can rip the tape out over and over with no one saying, “Give it back to mommy, please. Give it back to mommy” and prying it out of her tiny hands. A roll of wrapping paper from the dollar store will also go over well.
- A family sized box of rice to spread over every room of the house, just for fun. She already knows how to do this. She learned it last week in Sunday School.
- A Lego set for her to step on and throw against the wall while laughing with glee.
- An extra $10 to put towards the water bill so she can play at the kitchen sink and yell, “water! water!” as she pours, stirs and splashes joyfully.
- An expensive fabric angel decoration to hug and kiss with spaghetti-sauce-stained hands & face.
- An old plate to take to the cement floor in the garage, lift high over her head, and smash to smithereens.
Ah…the perfect Christmas.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Delicate
My heart is aching for the families affected by the shooting in Connecticut this week. I find myself slowing down and just loving my children, breathing them in, if you will…taking time to embrace them. My image of “delicate” is this picture of my daughter, her tiny fingers exploring the lights and her tiny face lit up with happiness.
murphy must have had kids 