The Grateful Mama » Love

Sneaking Out the Back Door

Karen — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 15:00:17 +0000

“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”

Kahlil Gibran

Over the last month, it seems as though Fig has become more attached to me than usual. She’s sleeping through the night now and I’m down to only two breast-feeds each day, so she may be feeling as though she has less ‘up-close-and-personal-time’ with Mama. These days, if she’s awake, she’s glued to my hip, which makes it challenging to leave the house without her. The girls have only really known one babysitter thus far: my mother. Yes, we know how lucky we are to have family close by; especially a grandmother who is so willing and wonderful…but that’s another post.

Lately, every time Grandma P. comes over to watch the girls, (which is at least once each week,) Fig immediately starts following me around the house with her arms outstretched, crying, “Mama!” Fig often has to be wrenched from my arms, before I make a quick exit. I know that she calms down quickly, and my mom is great at distracting Fig, but it’s unpleasant, to say the least.

One morning Grandma P. managed to distract Fig while I put on my boots and coat, and grabbed my purse. I waved silently to Mom and she nodded quickly. Without saying anything, we knew we were both thinking the same thing: that I should get out while the getting was good!

I slipped out the door, walked down the stairs and around the house to my car. I even sat down in the driver’s seat, and then I thought, “I can’t do it. I can’t leave this way.” I hadn’t said good-bye to Pip or to Fig. It didn’t feel right. I have always wanted to instill trust in my daughters. I don’t want them to think that Mama can disappear at any time. I want them to know that I’ll always be honest with them, and that I have faith they can handle any situation.

So, I went back inside. My mom looked surprised. ”Sorry Mom,” I said, “I don’t want to sneak out the back door, I want to say good-bye properly and face the music.” My mom completely understood. I gave each of my daughters a kiss and a hug and I said ‘good-bye’ before I left. And wouldn’t you know it, Fig just looked at me and said, “Bye, Mama!”

A Conspiracy of Love

Karen — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 15:00:18 +0000

“Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.”

- Hamilton Wright Mabi

Now that I have an opportunity to write, I’m realizing that I really missed my daily postings last week! It reminds me of when I moved away from home to go to the University of Alberta and my sister didn’t shed a tear when I left, but she bawled like a baby when I returned home for the Christmas holiday.

Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve missed your love, until you are reacquainted.

I have four ideas for posts today, but I’m going to write about my first Santa-photo-shoot because I’m just so excited about the entire experience. Not only was the actual ’shoot’ fun and exciting, but the processing and packaging was fulfilling as well. As I slipped each photo into a greeting card I imagined how the parents would react when they opened the envelopes and saw their little beauties on Santa’s lap. Some images were hilarious, some were sweet, and, as I prepared each photo, I learned that just the idea of providing parents with a lasting image of a precious moment in time really rocks my world!!! My next photo-shoot isn’t until next Saturday, and already I cannot wait to get back at it!!! It’s a good sign.

What I really want to write about is Timothy. He showed up after the shoot was over and Santa had left the building, (with a very happy-looking Mrs. Claus I might add,)

“Is Santa gone?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Will he be here tomorrow?”

“No, but he’ll be here next Saturday,” I said as I packed up my equipment.

“Oh. I won’t be able to come next Saturday. Do you take the pictures of Santa?”

“Yes.”

“Can you give him my list?”

Timothy reached into his pocket and pulled out his carefully written Christmas list. Now, I had anticipated that I would have a good time taking photos of kids, I suspected that I would enjoy watching the magical exchange between Santa and each child he conversed with, but I didn’t expect that a child would consider me a part of that magic. Timothy surprised me by assuming that I had a direct line to Santa.

“Of course,” I said, checking the list, “is your name on it?”

“Nope; my name’s Timothy.”

“Okay Timothy.”

I have the list in my camera bag and will most definitely give it to Santa, along with some special-secret- signal. With any luck, Timothy will make it to the mall one Saturday before Christmas, and wouldn’t it be grand if Santa pulled Timothy’s list out from his pocket?

The Happy Clauses

I love Chinese Food!

Karen — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 15:00:35 +0000

“Everyone eats and drinks, yet few appreciate food.”

Confucious

Big Daddy-O was away and the girls and I had to run an errand in the late afternoon. It took longer than I had anticipated, so at 5:20 pm I decided to pick-up Chinese food for dinner instead of cooking at home.

“But I don’t like Chinese food, Mama,” Pip whined.

“Honey, you’ve never tried Chinese food, so you don’t know if you like it or not.” This next bit is rather shameful, “Do you know that you used to say that you didn’t like chocolate chip cookies? Then you tried them one day, and you liked them!” It wasn’t true, but at least it made her think about making uninformed decisions about food preferences!

We strolled into Q.F. and ordered the four-item combo; rice, veg, chow mein and prawns. Just for fun, I had them throw in a few spring rolls. (My mouth is watering just typing the words, ’spring rolls.’)

We got home and I had dinner laid out in a flash. Pip seemed to like the looks of her dinner after all, and chomped into her spring roll without hesitation; or plum sauce. ”Mama, I LOVE CHINESE FOOD!” were the words that I heard at least three times that evening.

“Fantastic, Pip!”

“I think I could eat a WHOLE spring roll all by myself,” she ate one and a half rolls, then polished off everything on her plate.

After dinner the girls ran around a bit while I cleaned up, then we all danced for awhile before bath-time.

Once I had put Fig to bed, it was time to read to Pip. I got onto her bed while she looked for her book of choice. When she joined me on the bed, she performed an energetic little bounce on all fours and surprised us both by purging a good portion of her dinner on the bed.

“I threw-up Mama.” Pip was very calm.

“Yes you did, Honey.” I began to strip the sheet.

“I don’t know why I did that Mama.”

I explained that perhaps her body wasn’t used to Chinese food, perhaps she ate too quickly, or perhaps it was just all of the activity straight after dinner.

By the time I finished my explanation, Pip was snuggled into bed and ready for her book. I had to let a small chuckle escape before I began reading. I couldn’t help myself; it was the vision of her exuberant, ‘I LOVE CHINESE FOOD MAMA!!!’ coupled with the sudden vomiting image. Pip didn’t see the irony, of course, but she laughed when I chuckled, just to keep my giggle company.

Lucky Button

Karen — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 15:00:35 +0000

“We hippos love our belly-b’s, they’re round and cute and funny, and there’s a place we take them to when summer days are sunny.”

Sandra Boynton

Pip has always adored her belly-button. It’s an impressive, round ‘outey,’ and she rubs it to soothe herself. It came as no surprise, therefore, when Pip brought her first ‘family drawing’ over to me the other day and I noticed that we all had belly-buttons. It seems that we’re destined to remain mouth-less for awhile, and poor Fig didn’t get arms, but at least we have our belly-b’s.

Dr. Doolittle

Karen — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 15:00:28 +0000

“Talk to the animals.”

Rex Harrison, Dr. Doolittle

Do you remember Dr. Doolittle’s ‘Push-me Pull-you?’ I think it’s going to be my daughter’s new nick-name. You’d think that when Fig is feeling sick, all she’d want is a good snuggle with Mama. Nope. She wants contact, but not too much contact. She’s very particular about how much of her body is being touched at any given time. For instance, she likes to sit on my lap, but she doesn’t want my arms around her. When I’m nursing her, she doesn’t like my top arm to be resting on her body. Tricky. Sometimes she’ll even squirm to get off of my lap, then cry and hold her arms out to me because she wants me to pick her up. I can’t figure out what it is that she wants at times, and it seems that she doesn’t know what she wants either. Pick me up or put me down? Push-me Pull-you.

I know it’s not helpful to compare my daughters, but it’s amazing to me that two girls who have been raised with the same amount of contact and love can have such different appetites for affection. Pip loves nothing more than to be cuddled; the closer the better, whereas Fig is affectionate, but it has to be on her terms.

On Halloween night Fig went to sleep at 6:oo pm. When she awoke at 5:00 a.m. the next morning, I thought she might be up for the day, so I brought her into my bed. My typically un-snuggly girl turned to me and said, “Hug,” then she wrapped her little arms around me and patted me on the back. It didn’t last long, but I’ll take what I can get.

Hallowe’en Quarantine

Karen — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:00:20 +0000

“I’ll bet living in a nudist colony takes all the fun out of Halloween.”

Author Unknown

Is there anything more sad than kids being sick for a holiday? I remember having the mumps as a kid one Christmas, but I don’t think I was ever ill on Hallowe’en.

Luckily, Pip and Fig didn’t really know what they were missing. Neither of them remember last Hallowe’en, so when we told Pip about ‘trick-or-treaters’ coming to the door, she was incredibly excited. It didn’t even occur to her that she might go around to other people’s homes.

Our Hallowe’en went down like this:

First, we decorated the house, carved the pumpkin, decorated our front landing and got into costume. Next, we had a little photo shoot and Pip enacted various scenes from The Wizard of Oz.

It was only five o’clock, but the girls started to watch for trick-or-treaters.

They waited, and waited, and finally, their cousins were brave enough to approach the house of illness. Thank you family. That visit was the highlight of our night! Dorothy, the Tin Man and the Wicked Witch of the West had a brief, but exciting visit in our front foyer. They were each asked to utter a few lines from the play and our lovely little witch said, “I love you Dorothy!” Not necessarily the best character study, but certainly a heart-warmer.

After about five minutes, the cousins left our home to continue with the Hallowe’en festivities, and Pip turned to me and said, “That sure was fun, Mama.”

Bless her little heart.

Finding the gratitude

Karen — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 14:00:54 +0000

“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.”

Buddha

Don’t expect much from me this week. (Such a statement isn’t exactly the best way to entice readers, but I’m going to tell it like it is.) I feel LOUSY. This is probably the most ill I’ve felt during Fig’s life. Mastitis ranks high on the list of unpleasant ‘itises,’ but I’m suffering from a bronchial infection this time around, and it’s not pretty. I’ve been coughing so much that my abs are sore. (I wonder if I’ll come out of this with a six-pack.)

I’ve learned from this sickness that there is just no room for moms to be ill. It doesn’t work. Before I had a family, I would simply call-in sick and retreat to my cozy little cave. I’d spend my time sleeping, reading, resting, movie-watching and of course drinking fluids. Now I realize that the kind of recuperation time I enjoyed as a single woman was a luxury!!! WHAT I WOULDN’T GIVE FOR A DAY IN BED!!! There is no cave for the mother of two young kids. Well, the cave is here, but the rest and relaxation are not.

I have also learned that thinking about what you’d rather be doing, when it’s just not in the cards, is sheer torture. It does not help to send yourself messages like, “All I want to do is curl up and sleep,” when you’re changing your daughter’s diaper and she’s fighting you all the way. It’s much easier to accept your current reality and make the best of it. For instance, I managed to do a lot of horizontal parenting today, and the girls didn’t seem to mind. There was more book-reading than bike-riding, to be sure, but it was still enjoyable for the girls and more comfortable for me.

This nasty little bug has been taunting me for three weeks now, and just when I decided I was well-enough to take a family trip to the big city, it called all of it’s nasty-bug-relatives and declared war on my body. I decided to rally, and do all of the things we had planned to do while in Vancouver, but I clearly overdid it.

Both girls have been suffering from colds during the past two weeks as well, and I find it impossible to focus on my own health when my children are sick. Pip sleeps well through the night, even when she’s sick, but Fig has been averaging two wake-ups every night and it’s bloody exhausting! Just when I think I’m on the mend, I have a night with little or no sleep and I’m back to square one. It’s like my immune system is too tired to fight the good fight.

So last night at 12:00 pm, and again at 4:00 am when I dragged my coughing, sneezing,sleep-deprived body upstairs to nurse Fig, I thought to myself, “there’s no gratitude in this.” But of course, there is. For starters, I’m sick, but I don’t have a life-threatening illness. I can’t imagine the bravery it takes to face that kind of challenge. Secondly, my kids are generally pretty healthy. This is small potatoes compared to what a lot of parents with really sick kids have to endure. I volunteered at the Vancouver Children’s hospital years ago, and it was one of the most humbling experiences of my life.

Thirdly, this may sound kind of bizarre, but I’m repeatedly reminded of a woman I saw on Oprah last year. I don’t watch the show regularly anymore, but I suppose I was meant to see this particular story. A pregnant woman went into the hospital to give birth to her second daughter, contracted flesh-eating disease during her cesarean section, and had to have all of her limbs amputated immediately. The hospital staff kept waiting for her to crash; become angry or depressed-but she never did! She said that she felt lucky to be alive, and she had two beautiful daughters to love. That kind of strength ASTOUNDS me!!! She went home from the hospital without arms or legs. Can you imagine? I can’t.

So, although caring for two young kids while I’m ill is challenging, I know that things could be a lot worse. For that I’m grateful, and sometimes, finding the gratitude isn’t easy.

Rubies

Karen — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 14:00:55 +0000

“It is our illusions that create the world.”

Didier Cauwelaert

Pip’s obsession with ‘The Wizard of Oz’ hasn’t waned since she first saw the stage production last summer. She constantly wears her (purple) ruby red slippers, she frequently assumes the role of Dorothy, she likes to have her hair braided in Garland-like pigtails, she’s going to be Dorothy for Hallowe’en and she has watched the Judy Garland version of The Wizard of Oz in its’ entirety more than once. I was watching the, ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ scene with her the other day when she complimented Judy Garland, “She sure is good Mama. She is very talented. She must be very proud of herself to do the whole thing like that.”

Needless to say, when my friend Fred, who is the father of the actress who played Dorothy this past summer, invited us to his home to meet Dorothy (Sydney), I accepted without hesitation. I didn’t put much thought into how difficult it would be for Pip to process that Sydney was Dorothy. After we had spent about fifteen minutes at Fred and Sydney’s home, Pip whispered to me, “Mama, Dorothy isn’t here.” Ouch.

I thought I had prepared Pip. Many times we had discussed the fact that ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ was ‘pretend.’ We had talked about the jobs of actors and actresses, and I had warned Pip that Sydney wouldn’t be wearing her costume when we met her, but Pip had still expected to meet Dorothy in all of her glory. She was disappointed.

I asked Sydney if she had her ruby red slippers, and she brought them out to show us. Pip examined them; she even put them on her feet, but she still wasn’t convinced that she was in the presence of Dorothy. ”I wonder if you could say a few of your lines, Sydney.” I knew I was asking a lot, but Sydney seemed like a good sport.

Sydney asked Pip what her favourite parts of the show were. Pip wasn’t ready to talk, she just nestled into my side. I responded for her, “Pip loves saying lines about Toto.” In a matter of seconds, Sydney clutched her little dog to her chest and launched into one of her monologues about Toto.

When she had finished, Pip looked at me and smiled a gigantic ‘it’s-really-Dorothy!!!!’ grin. That’s what I was waiting for.

Nice work, Sydney; you had a tough little critic on your hands but you melted her heart for a second time.

Tender noses

Karen — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 14:00:46 +0000

“Be gentle to all and stern with yourself.”

Saint Teresa

Sometimes I marvel at the unlikely situations that fill me with pride. Nose-blowing for example.

Pip has maintained a fairly positive attitude despite her nasty cold. I feel as though I’ve been wiping her nose intermittently for the past two weeks, and I have a new appreciation for how she feels because I’ve now caught the bug.

I was reading her a bed-time story when I was overcome by a coughing fit. ”I know you’re sick, Mama, but you just follow the dream that I had for you, the dream to not be sick anymore, and each day you’ll feel a little bit better.” She comforted me by rubbing my arm, and as she was doing so, she noticed my attire. ”Hey Mama, you’re really wearing a lot of black! You’re like one big black flower!”

She made me laugh, which in turn made her laugh. ”Have you seen a black flower, Pip?” I honestly wasn’t sure if there was such a thing.

“Of course, Mama, you’re a black flower!” As my daughter showered sweetness upon me, a heavy stream of clear fluid started snaking its way out of her nose.

“Let me get a tissue for you,” I said.

As I was wiping Pip’s tender little nose for the umpteenth time I took note of a bit of chafed skin beneath her nostrils. ”Was I gentle enough, Honey?” I asked her empathetically.

She looked at me with sincerity and replied, “Mama, you’re the gentlest nose-blower in all the world.”

A title I’m extremely proud to hold.

Structure

Karen — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 14:00:11 +0000

“When kids play they remember, they may not be aware that they are learning, but they sure are aware that they are having fun.”

Rebecca Krook

I was inspired by my sister yesterday. (It’s not unusual, I’m frequently inspired by her!) She’s home-schooling my five-year-old niece as well as working part-time and mothering a younger son! She has always been extremely organized, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw a timetable of children’s activities on her kitchen bulletin-board. She schedules physical activity time, unstructured play-time, structured learning time, and off-campus lessons into her days with the kids, so that all bases are covered.

I thought of her schedule yesterday when I woke up to a wet and grey morning and was faced with the prospect of surviving a full day indoors with two sick children. At 8:00 am, when both girls are usually in top-form, they were already melting down into a pool of discomfort. What on earth were we going to do for the next nine hours?

When I was a teacher, I’d write an agenda on the board each day and call it, ‘The Shape of the Day.’ That’s exactly what our day needed: some shape!

After breakfast, I brought out the massive box of play-doh and assorted plastic accessories. Pip and I taught Fig a few colours and shapes and we showed her how to roll the play-doh into a long snake.

Pip opened up a play-doh restaurant and prepared yellow and black spaghetti for us, then she made me a big black heart and said, “Here Mama, this is a big heart for all of your love.” (I didn’t let Pip’s colour choice alarm me.)

The girls were happily occupied for almost an hour, and I enjoyed being their full-time facilitator. Cleaning-up was great because Fig spotted the feather-duster and Pip wanted to use the broom, so there was some impromptu house-cleaning that took at least thirty minutes!

Next we got moving. I put Peter Gabriel on the stereo, (he is one of Pip’s favourites,) got the ‘musical instrument basket’ out, and we danced for about fifteen minutes. The girls then paraded around the house with their drums while I cooked lunch.

After lunch it was reading time. The three of us cuddled on the couch and read a few books, then it was time for Fig’s nap.

Yay! It was HALF-TIME , and everyone was in great spirits.

I won’t bore you with our afternoon activities, but I will say that structuring the day worked brilliantly. I set aside housework, phone-calls and errands to create a completely child-centered day, and on THIS particular day, it was a wise choice.

It did feel a little bit like my days in the classroom, however, as a teacher, you dismiss your kids at 3:00 and have time to catch up on marking, prepping, making phone-calls, putting up displays and organizing the classroom! Big difference.

It’s all one big balancing act, isn’t it?