Monday 5 November 2012

Food for your Doomsday thoughts

Lately I have been feeling more emotional than usual. Blame it on the withering levels of vitamin D, the impending mayhem of another Christmas in retail, or even watching the sand in the hourglass slip away with far too much speed (see: my kid is growing up so fast that I feel like if I don't document every milestone, these memories are going to be lost forever). Either way, my response to my own emotions are, for some reason, to pull towards me and keep my family as close as possible these days.

I find myself calling my Dad every day. Just to talk, to check in, see how he is feeling. Same thing goes for my brother - I will just dial him up at work to "chat" and he politely tolerates my mindless banter, regardless of how busy he might be that day. And don't get me started on my poor mother....one moment, I'm searching MLS like a private eye for little abodes that she can purchase and make the relocation to my neck of the woods, and the next moment, I'm pleading with my husband for us to "splurge" and buy the old house that is for sale next door to where Mom currently resides. Make up your mind, will ya Melly??

For the reasons mentioned above though, the roller coaster of emotions are most likely to be blamed on the lack of vitamin D thing. Nevertheless, I can't help but to notice that it seems that A LOT of people around me are edgy these days. I see my fair share of strange people at work. People that behave in very strange manners (The Customer is Always Right is the title of my next satirical piece of fiction, dedicated to all those encounters over the years). These people flock to me to talk about strange things, almost like I have a giant neon sign above my head that says "If you are weird/angry/ornery/sick/sad/demented, please talk to me!!". Further, I see mother nature getting pissed right off and hurricaning all over Manhattan. I see the government trying to take away our rights to access holistic supplements and herbs (Bill C-51, don't even get me started). 4 Earthquakes of Vancouver Island in 2 days. The list goes on.....

But most of all, I see all these strange television documentaries about the Mayan Calendar and the impending doom associated with December 21, 2102.

You see, this one kind of 'concerns' me. Y2K could have passed me by without a second glance. The Rapture of May 21, 2011? Never heard of it until after it never happened. But December 21, 2012? I don't know what to think about it.

I actually asked to my beloved hubby the other day if he would be into making a survival kit with me. I'm not going to lie; he laughed at me. So I mentioned it to my Mom. She matter-of-factly asked me "well, what happens if you make a survival kit, and the earthquake makes something fall onto your kit and squishes it, rendering it useless??" (my mom didn't use the word render, BTW....I added that word myself). So, good times. I'm on my own in the event of an apocalypse. Well, screw you guys, you're still my family, and even if you don't think the world is coming to an end in December, I'm still going to make a survival kit and I will gladly share with you if it doesn't get squished.

Some theories about 12/21/2012?

-Earth's alignment with a black hole will obliterate our planet
-there is a polar magnetic shift happening, which will make the weather go crazy
-Earth will collide with another planet called "Nibru"
-New Age theory says that Earth and it's inhabitants are due to undergo a positive "physical or spiritual transformation" of sorts......

one source for these theories:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012_phenomenon

Anyway, on December 21, as I'm hiding out in a bunker that I've dug in my back yard with a bottle of J Lohr and a Peppermint Aero bar, everyone else will be carrying on with their day to day life and not even thinking of the apocalypse.....

at least until you read this post.....muahahahahahaaaaaa

No, but seriously, I'm hoping that my affinity these days to hug and harass my family with love is just a sign of my maturity and understanding of the fragile nature of life. I need to absorb every last moment with everyone I love because it could all be gone tomorrow, apocalypse or no apocalypse.

Nevertheless, don't be mad if myself and Sheldon Cooper are the only ones that have a half decent survival kit. ;)

Thanks for reading!
Melly

Thursday 18 October 2012

Dirty Laundry: AKA Ice Cream for Breakfast

One of my girlfriends told me that she loves reading my blog, but that she would love it even more if I posted a "bad mommy" blurb. You know, one of those posts where we can all air out our dirty "parenting" laundry in regards to what kind of lazy, terrible things we do on those days when we don't feel like making the best decisions for our kiddlets.

For example, she told me that she gives her kid ice cream for breakfast on the days that she is too lazy to make him anything.

Sure, some of you will be shocked and judgemental about this. I'm sure there is the odd one of you whose child has never even tasted ice cream.....

But for the majority of us? Come on, this will be fun! Let's all share our terrible secrets! That way, we can have a laugh, and feel a little less guilty about this daunting job they call parenting!

OK....I'll start the confessional.....

1. My daughter has only slept in her crib about a dozen times in her life. She sleeps with us most nights. And she loves to turn around in her sleep so that she can kick me squarely in the jaw in the middle of the night. For those of you that know me well, I can survive quite well on no sleep. However, I do NOT react well when woken up/kicked/am used as a soother all night long. I turn into a demon, basically.

2. One day she was chewing on a shoe that she had been wearing outside. You know, had been walking around at the mall in, on the sidewalks, in the muddy park. I was in the middle of a brilliant paragraph of my book and I honestly let her continue to chew away until I finished the paragraph. Who knows how many germs ended up in her mouth

3. I don't brush her teeth properly because she spazzes out at me and let's face it: I just don't have the energy to do it for the full 2 minutes! If anyone actually does, please stand, so I can throw something at you!!

OK people! That's my top 3! There's many more, but I just can't bring myself to admit it right now!

So now I'm asking you for a favour! Comment on my post and air your dirty laundry! Share your secrets! And we can all see and feel that we're not alone, and have a laugh along the way!

XOXO Melly

Sunday 1 July 2012

Moving on

It's been awhile since my last post.

Lily is almost a year old now. She is chatting. She is crawling, pulling up and walking along furniture, showing a fierce diva-esque personality. She hits me in the face and laughs when I say no....

But she knocks my socks off every day. She is the joy, the essence of life.

My grandma passed away a few days ago. Before she left us I went to see her one last time. I brought Lily.

It was amazing to see the interaction between this 98 year old woman (who was virtually comatose the day before) and my beautiful daughter. As soon as we arrived, Grandma stirred and awoke. She locked eyes with Lily and they proceeded to have a silent, intimate conversation for a little more than a minute. Then, miraculously, Grandma reached out and "coochie coo'd" Lily under the arm. Dad and I sat there, amazed at what we were witnessing.

When we left, Grandma waved bye bye to Lily.

Dad told Grandma it was OK to go. She passed away that night. Rest in peace, Grandma. oxox

Perspective


As any parent of a toddler, I find that I am really maxed out for time. My daughter is at the age now where she is mobile and extremely curious, so she is into everything…..particularly all the cliché areas that your ever-knowing mother-in-law and other parent friends mentioned before: the Tupperware drawer, the cd cabinet, the clothing drawers, your makeup case….pretty much any drawer that they can get their chubby little digits on. She has learned to full-out run, and she speeds away from me like a criminal runs from the law, all the while giggling and shrieking at this fantastic new game. She flips her interest more quickly than my eyes can follow. She is just SO BUSY, and I can’t leave her alone for one second. This makes for accomplishing ANY task that I tackle virtually impossible to complete. Hence, I am maxed out for time.

In order to deal with this, I plan my day accordingly, designating time intervals for everything. For example, she naps from around 11am for an hour and a half, so I have to bust my booty during that window to do whatever it is I need to do that requires my full attention (see: surf pinterest and facebook).

No, but seriously…..I devote 15 minutes to put away her laundry (and nope, I don’t fold it….I don’t believe in folding, personally) and as I stuff her onesise and leggings into one drawer, she has pulled everything else out of another drawer. OK, so we start again….I put away everything that she just pulled out of the other drawer, whilst distracting her with a puzzle, to which she gives me this look “lady, I’ve already solved this puzzle ages ago….let’s look alive here, ok?” and she proceeds to pull everything out of another drawer. Yep, the 15 minutes that I devoted to laundry is now up, and I give in and toss all the laundry onto her bedroom floor and close the door to conceal the evidence. Later, when hubby gets home from work, he clucks his tongue at us when he notices the mess in her bedroom. “I see that our lovely daughter has pulled everything out of her drawers again, hey?” he asks. I roll my eyes in agreement, “yep, she sure did” and I snicker under my breath….if only he knew the truth!  

Anyways, I guess that I have pretty much just accepted the fact that my house will never be clean again, but it’s not without trying. For instance, I bought myself a rechargeable Swiffer vacuum from the store so to vacuum up the Hansel and Gretel trail that this kid of mine has left throughout my house. When I first pulled that shiny green Swiffer vacuum out of its box, I felt triumphant! Take that, cheerios!  I thought to myself. Well, it turns out that the vacuum needs to be fully charged before it works…..fully charged for 12 hours. And you can guess what happened once that Swiffer became charged. Yep. By then I had lost interest in the task….the 5 minute window that I allot myself to vacuum is over, people! Damn you, Swiffer! (I have since forgiven the Swiffer and we get along very well).

Sometimes I feel so stressed as I gaze around at the chaotic mess that has become my home. On a particularly bad day, when there’s nothing made for dinner, I’ve worked all day and I have a toddler immersed into the “witching hour”, I feel like unravelling. But sometimes, all you need is a little perspective, and it seems that this perspective comes with perfect timing. The perspective came in the form of two customers at my work this weekend. The first was a woman who seemed stumped as to what mascara to buy. I suggested a few options, upon which we started chatting and she revealed to me that perhaps the reason why her mascara kept clumping was because she had lost all her eyelashes to chemotherapy. She then told me that it was her son’s wedding that afternoon, and that she didn’t want to look washed out in the photos, and would I help her find some makeup?

Long story short, I put a bit of blush on her, a touch of a neutral shadow, and drew some eyebrows onto the area where her own brows had once resided. Then, when I was done, she  pulled me into her and gave me the biggest hug. She barely looked me in the eye, for fear that I would see her tears, as she whispered “thank you so much” and scurried away.

Well, that certainly made my day.

But that’s not it!

Today, I was feeling particularly sorry for myself, being stuck at work while my hubby and daughter were out playing in the Canada Day festivities. Then, along came a very patriotic looking woman, decked out in full red and white, with her adorable little granddaughter in tow. This little girl had painted her nails as Canada flags, and grandma was looking for some stick-on rhinestones to complete the look. I couldn’t help but notice that this little girl (who could have been no more than 4 years old) had very short, coarse hair. As I tried not to stare, it was as if grandma read my mind.

“She’s lost all her hair from cancer treatments. She’s healing from leukemia.”

I nodded knowingly, trying to disguise my pain with understanding.

They continued on their way, checking out polishes and perfume. I couldn’t help myself, as the tears were in danger of spilling over and could only be quelled by one piece of information.

I approached them.

“Will she be ok?” I heard the words tumble from my mouth as if I were asking a doctor about my own daughter’s fate.

“She’s tough.” Grandma said. “She swallows pills and everything. She just finished up her treatments. She lives in California, and she and her sisters are here on vacation. I have seven granddaughters, you know” she added proudly.

I know this post is shaping up to sound like a corny after-school special, but seriously, people. If this doesn’t put my complaints into perspective, then I don’t know what does?!

One thing I do know is this: I made a decision right then and there. I decided to TRY not to feel so stressed about the silly things in my life. They are truly trivial compared to what these two customers are dealing with. And I also vowed to hug my daughter a little more tightly that day. And every day from now on.

Monday 23 January 2012

Guilt and worry, be gone!

Ah, mommy guilt. Feel free to leave at any time, will ya?

Ha ha.

Unfortunately, it comes with the territory of being a mom, and unless you can find a way to quell it, it will always be there, nagging in the back of your mind.

Come on, moms....you know what I'm talking about!

Before your baby is born, you have this idealistic expectation of what will happen as you raise your little angel. "My baby will never sleep in my bed. Nor will he/she watch tv, eat anything that is not homemade and/or organic. We will spend our days snuggling on the couch, reading educational books and listening to classical music."

Yeah, this was pretty much my idea before Lily was born. I was going to cultivate and raise this healthy, spiritually aware little being that would never know the likes of Sesame Street or Yo Gabba Gabba before the age of 2. She would slumber peacefully in her own bed for 12 hours straight and would be perfect.

WRONG! And I have to laugh, because this is where the guilt comes in! And this is why....

1. I plunk her in front of the TV every day for at least a bit... for my own sanity. I need to make myself something to eat.. .or just sit on the computer for 10 minutes so that I can have a moment to myself. But here comes the guilt: Is her language development getting hindered by watching this silly program? We could be reading an educational book right now, spending more quality time...

2. She sleeps in my bed. Every night. Everyone says "you really should put her in her crib. Just let her cry it out. Crying never hurt anyone" (you know, I really need to get a t-shirt for Lily that says 'my mom doesn't want your advice'). Anyways, so here I am, feeling immensely guilty that I am not teaching my daughter healthy sleep habits by letting her sleep in our bed. And further, she's mobile now, and there is a very large chance that one of these days she's going to bail out of bed onto her noggin on the hard floor.....

3. I give her tylenol. And I think... am I giving it to her more than I should? My mind wanders to my earth-mama friend who matter-of-factly states that none of her children have ever had tylenol... that when her kids have fevers, they get water and snuggles and that does the trick. WTH??? My mind wanders to last night, when at 4:30 am my daughter's 3 day fever stint had returned with a vengance, and her poor little body was burning up. So I stumble out to the kitchen and grab the tylenol, and attempt to rouse a sleeping child to administer it. Of course, she's pissed that I woke her up, and half the first dose trickles all over her chin and onto the pillow (yes, we sleep with pillows near baby. judge away people). So, I fill the plunger up with another dose and into the mouth it goes. And then for good measure, one more dose. Realistically here, I have no idea how much I have just given her, because she spat a lot of it out, and that silly tylenol dispenser sucks. And now my mind is wandering into the guilt territory again, thinking OMG am I damaging her liver by od'ing her on tylenol??? Did she get enough?? Will the fever go down???? and so on.....guilt guilt guilt. Worry worry worry...

4. I don't make her baby food. I got a baby bullet for a shower gift and I was so excited to put it to use. When the time came, I went to the organic market and stocked up on veggies and fruit to blend up to perfection.

I think I made one batch of sweet potatoes for her. The look on her face when I proudly served her the first spoonful was priceless. It was as if I had just served her doggy doo. She shuddered and spat it all out, and never touched another bite. Same thing with the bananas that I pureed. And the avocado. So now the baby bullet collects dust in the pantry and picky-eater Lily will tolerate "certain" organic jarred foods, but for the most part, survives off of breast milk and cereal puffs. Worry worry worry....guilt guilt guilt....is she getting enough protein? Vitamins?

I could continue for days here, but why beat myself up? Although I am giggling to myself as I write this, it is also re-hashing that guilt and worry again.

However, just by writing this, is is reminding me to catch myself before those emotions get the best of me. Because I guarantee that any mom out there that is reading this is either agreeing with me or relating to this post in some way or another. We're all in the same boat here, with our ideals about our children and how they will grow up and thrive. And we all come to the realization that those ideals don't always pan out. Nevertheless, I think that raising children is a series of small battles and even larger victories, and at the end of the day, if your child knows that they are loved, it's not the end of the world if you give them a non-organic handful of cheerios to snack on once in a while.

Just give them lots of love, people. And hugs. Give them enough courage to venture out into the world and explore, but just stand close enough behind them so that when they look back, you're there. And try to keep that guilt and worry to a minimum. After all, a good half-hour of "you" time while baby watches Elmo will probably make you a better mommy in the long run because it will give you a break!

And on a side note: The TV has been on the whole time I've been writing this. The Cat in the Hat. And I don't feel guilty one single bit, because my little lady just told me that a cow says "moo". She's only 11 months. I guess TV doesn't hinder language development after all :)

Thanks for reading!
Melly