interview with boombalady and tweedlemum

boombalady:

parenting style?
flip flopper: Mr. Hubsters says that I am reminiscent of a semi-dead fish. He should
talk since his butt is nice and cozy permanently affixed on the fence with any
decision.

good cop or bad cop?
BAAAAD cop (I wonder why).

how many hours of sleep do you average a night?
Eight hours and counting! (after 1.3 years of no sleep, so I deserve it)

what did your kid(s) have for dinner last yesterday?
ghetto Superstar (my version of Mac and Cheese with beans and sausage)

what's your typical day like?
dodging bullets.

current parenting work distribution
Dad 50% Mom 50% (surprising)

parenting job that mom always does
do not deviate from nap times or suffer the consequences!

parenting job that dad always does
lets him get away with murder

cleanliness of house right now
very dusty

thing you miss most from your pre-kid life
staring at the wall

regrets?
should have requested the epidural earlier

best advice you got
don't listen to advice

anymore kids?
if it involves a nanny and a therapist

tweedlemum:

parenting style?
hands off

good cop or bad cop?
good cop

how many hours of sleep do you average a night?
eight in total, always interrupted

what did your kid(s) have for dinner last yesterday?
tacos

what's your typical day like?
boring

current parenting work distribution
Dad 20% Mom 80%

parenting job that mom always does
food

parenting job that dad always does
bedtime

cleanliness of house right now
clean generally, just a maze of toys

thing you miss most from your pre-kid life
solitude

regrets?
should have had homebirths

best advice you got
let baby cry or you'll spoil them. That didn't work which made me question every piece of advice, which then lead me to never listen to advice. A real turning point!

anymore kids?
maybe 1 more but that's it!

sharing

Play Group, the giant socialization experiment, where 50 kids who’ve never shared, and a biased referee for every one of them, are thrown into what is essentially a giant gymnasium filled with hula hoops, and slides, and tunnels, and balls, and books, and puzzles, and babies, and toddlers, and big kids, and mothers, and fathers, and grandparents, and music, and chaos.
My boy loves it.
He spends most of his time dancing and running in circles, caught up in the internal frenzy of what to play with first. This morning he started with a grungy yellow ball, which we tossed back and forth. An older boy came and snatched the ball away when it was fumbled by my guy, which is by the way every time, he’s only 3. The little face contorted, and the eyes welled up, I knew what was coming, so I leaned in with a hug and whispered that he should wait and watch, because, I bet a trillion dollars that that little boy will throw it away any minute. Sure enough, within the minute, the boy tossed it carelessly to the side as he climbed up the slide. My watchful boy went after it, happy again.
Not wanting to lose it again, our game of catch was changed to a rousing game of I’m Just Going to Run Around in Circles Holding the Ball, (not nearly as fun I’m sure but he was happy again).
About 5 minutes later, the older boy came over, yelling and trying to snatch it out of his arms this time. I reluctantly intervened, (I so hate disciplining other peoples kids) and pointed out another ball that no one was playing with. He was not interested.
Thankfully, his mother came over.
But, this is what she said to him:
“I know it was yours, and you had it first but…”
ECK!
I silently retorted “It is NOT yours, and, you did NOT have it first”
(Silently is always the best way to retort.)
So, where’s the lesson for this kid?
You own whatever you touch?
You own anything you touch first, or have perceived to have touched first?
I’m sure his mom had the best intentions in getting her child to share, and maybe I’m the weirdo who just gets caught up in semantics. But I think kids are a lot more perceptive of these nuances than we give them credit for. Maybe it also goes back to my issues with things and just having too much of them. Objects are just things, people, and feelings, and general fairness to others, always trumps the object.
I can’t be sure of the lessons either of us taught our kids in that instance. But I do know that a few minutes later, when the older boy came back and snatched the ball, yet again from my little guys hands, both I and the other mom looked on quietly, while my guy reacted a lot differently. This time a grin spread across his face, and he actually laughed as he started a new game of Chase the Kid Who Took the Ball. The kid was unfortunately not into playing this game, but maybe he should have been. Maybe every kid there should have been,

more graphics for our organic onesies

$24 each { not your average run of the mill sayings }

I've added 3 more graphics to the Organic Onesie collection...! We have 8 in total. Click here to see them full size.

I'll come up with more when my brain can start processing again. Or even sooner when Buddy takes me through another life experience that would be a keeper to jot down!

time and energy

Everything boils down to these two words; time and energy.

After Buddy, I was asked like a billion times "How is motherhood". Even by men. Like, what answer could you possibly give them? How can men relate to what "motherhood" is like? I'm not being mean or anything, but seriously, how can you describe it? So I've come up with the perfect saying.

As Morpheus said to Neo: "no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself" (Just replace the Matrix with Motherhood)

So what does this have to do with the topic? If I can build a template and not use up whatever energy I have left, and have my mouth open and the answers come out by itself, that would make my day.

I admit, I use to be one that would be at the grocery lineup thinking about that screaming kid "Man, that mom needs to discipline her child!" or "I'm never going to raise my kids that way!".

Ok, now that I'm on the other side (no it's not an elite side or anything), I realize that I now sympathize with those moms and dads. Yes, it came to bite me back in the ***! and I admit it!

I feel especially not worthy because I only have one child. Imagine John and Kate + 8!

With screaming kids having a meltdown at the store, remember that their parents just may not have the time and energy at that moment.

Don't judge a parent without walking an inch in their shoes!

robot babies

No, not robot chicken, robot babies.

Mr. Hubsters and I used to call his niece and 2 nephews the demolition crew. This was when they were about 2-5 years old. (They are very mature teens now). One day, we decided to do a test which would involve a kind of empty basement. It had a sofa, a TV and 3 pillows. That was it.

10 minutes passed, we went down. The place magically turned into a war zone complete with a wrecking ball. We didn't get it. I don't think there was a a feather left in any of those pillows. We sat there in hysterical laughter.

Barney came on singing to that dreaded tune "Clean up, Clean up, everybody, everywhere".... blah blah. Immediately, something went off in those 3 little brains. They started picking things up and putting them in their proper places. Quietly without hesitation. Has anyone ever seen the Manchurian Candidate?

Fast Forward to now. My own little Buddy Dude and that Purple Dinosaur who is still in syndication. Barely able to talk but when the word "Clean up" is uttered, he will pick up Lego off the floor and throw it into the toy bin.

I have hated Barney for 14 years. I vowed never to let my own child(ren) watch him. But everything I've said about everything else has gone out the window, so what difference does Barney make anyway. But I still believe he is the devil.

Got that song in your head, didn't I?

bins and purging

Ever get the urge to throw out everything you own?

That’s me right now!
Cleared house = cleared head

I just feel like I’m drowning in post-consumer waste. That feeling times 100 with kids. I get to the point that I hate getting gifts, please don’t clutter my house more, the real gift you could give me and the kids would be to come and take something away. I’m currently reading an issue of Dwell where the cover story is the under 1000 square foot house. They showcase several amazing houses, but it’s obvious that these inhabitants have cancelled Christmas, all birthdays, and every other gift giving occasion. A bigger house however would only make the situation worse. More places to put more stuff. I like my small house, it forces us to be clever about storage, we have a Goodwill box in our hall closet which is delivered at least monthly, we really aren’t chronic shoppers, but still, the amount of stuff that accumulates in this house makes me feel crowded, stressed, and adds to my already procrastinating personality. If only my house was organized, I could get stuff done.

We have about 50 Rubbermaid bins in the basement, maybe I should buy another 50, empty the contents of my house into them and see what items I miss.

My guess would be none of it.

coming out of zombie land

I can say confidently that I haven't slept in 1 year, 1 month and 3 days. (At least not more than 3 hours at a time).

We did what Ms. Tweedlemom mentioned in the previous post; everyone is happy when baby sleeps with mom and dad. This was without a doubt true; in the beginning. I also admit that we did it for selfish reasons. I mean, who wants to get up 5-10 times at night, walk all the way over to the nursery in half zombie-like state, get the baby (who by the way has completely woke himself up now from crying), feed him, try to put him back down which will take another hour, and do this all over again in another hour ?

So we practiced the controversial family bed for 3 reasons:
1. It's only natural for newborns to sleep with mommy. (I still don't get why it's controversial)
2. Buddy was a very colicky baby. Which I will share in my next post.
3. It was more convenient for feeding because I was just too tired to get up.

Within this time of co-sleeping, I was advised by many people (and hundreds of online resources) that he should self sooth himself to sleep by 3 months. With colic, that was darn near impossible. But at the 3 month mark, I gave the Ferber method a try. I let him cry.

What is Ferberizing?
(No, you are not Febreezing your baby with air fresher, I've been asked this funny enough!). The Ferber method is termed by Dr. Ferber and you can read all about here: http://www.babycenter.com/0_the-ferber-method-demystified_7755.bc
Did this work for us at that time? No.

So we continued with our original school of thought. The Dr. Sears method of co-sleeping which you can read about here: http://www.askdrsears.com/html/7/T071000.asp

We continued co-sleeping because:
a) Mr. Hubsters was a softy
b) I wasn't really at that point to let Buddy go either no matter how sleep deprived I was
c) We didn't want to hear him cry for hours because it broke our hearts and was equally annoying to hear

We continued the co-sleeping thing until he was 7-8 months before trying again to put him in his own room. After conversations with other friends who tried Ferberizing (with the stop-watch and all) and had 100% success with it, I was determined to give it another try. At this point, I was still getting up 4-5 times a night which made me really crabby in the morning and throughout the day! Everyone will be happy if mommy's happy.

So we tried Ferber again. Did it work? No. Buddy was crying for so long that he fell asleep standing up. We have a video monitor in his room, so we took a picture of it. You can see him in the corner.


So, we continued the co-sleeping. Christmas time comes. I really needed sleep. We (or rather I) was determined to try again. But then the family got the flu! We were all sick on and off for a whole month, so we waited, AGAIN.

His first birthday arrives. I gave Mr. Hubsters an ultimatum. "THAT'S IT! He's old enough now! If I don't get sleep, I'm going to drown myself while taking a bath." So we tried once again and stuck to our guns. No visits past midnight until 8 am. Of course he cried. We have more pictures. But this only lasted a few days. So I can proudly say that he is now sleeping from 9:30 pm all the way up until 8am without getting up! And it's been 3 weeks and counting.

Why the Ferber thing didn't work for us in the beginning:
- we weren't 100% wholehearted into it
- we weren't consistent in the method
- we believed he wasn't really ready
- his little room was just so far away from us

How come it worked later?
- well, we didn't really follow the Ferber method. It states to go in every 15 minutes, then 10, then 5, over a period of time. By doing this, it only confused him and made him more angry. We just stopped the visitations altogether.
- we believed he grew out of it

Are you harming and not loving your baby by letting him cry?
- let's put it this way, having a happy mommy is better than having an all day disgruntled mommy.

Moral of story:
- take the information you have researched, and do what you want with it, at your own time.
- don't feel that you must meet every expectation with your baby's stages of development
- do what is right for you
- don't stress
- stop listening to people's stories
- stop listening to what other people are telling you what you should be doing
- (I did opposite of all the above)

Happy sleeping!

parenting experts

It used to be that an expert was one who had mastered a specific skill or subject. Now it seems, that an expert is defined as one who simply states it, and most importantly, has others believe it. It also helps in solidifying your legitimacy if you go on TV, write an article, or even better a book that no one reads, but everyone quotes. Parenting Expert, Design Expert, Lactation Expert, Etiquette Expert, Lifestyle Expert (Ok really? Lifestyle Expert? What the hell is this?)
Everyone’s an expert.
Not to forget the mothers, fathers, inlaws, grandparents, aunts, uncles, neighbors, strangers, coworkers, and of course, the childless, they all seem to know better than the rest of us. I would like to know where they received their degree in Expertology, and how the rest of us got so stupid.

Let me cite an example. About every five years, experts are “revising” their baby sleep rules. Stomach, side, back, co-sleeping, crib sleeping only, bumper pads, no bumper pads, blankets, no blankets, warm room, cool room. It’s enough to make a new parent’s head spin.

I, like so many others, got sucked up into this expert culture. In the early reign of my first born, I listened, watched, and read the advice of any expert spewing information at me. I may not have followed all of it, but I sat and nodded in agreement, went back to whatever terrible parenting habit I had started and couldn’t stop, and felt guilty until the next expert told me it was ok to do whatever it was I was doing to the child. If that expert didn’t present him/herself in a timely manner, I would scour the online parenting sites until I found an expert that said what I was doing was the right thing to be doing… despite what the other experts stated. Why was I doing this? An attempt at legitimacy in my parenting skills? Afraid that someone would find out I’m a terrible parent and take my baby away? Scrutinizing every move I made when all along I should have been scrutinizing these “experts”?

After many stressful, teary days I realized, maybe, this culture of expert advice should be altered into a culture of supportive camaraderie.
So, how do we start this revolution? How about each of us becoming experts on our own lives, and respecting the expert decisions others make in their own lives.
Just for starters.
This is surprisingly liberating.
Do it yourself!
You’ll be shocked at how well your children start sleeping, eating, and generally behaving.

20 RULES FOR PARENTING:
by my own personal parenting expert, me.

1. Everyone is happy when baby sleeps with mom and dad.
2. When baby cries, go pick baby up
3. When baby cries, if busy, finish what I’m doing and then go pick baby up.
4. Soothers are magical plugs that stop the screaming
5. Nipple confusion is a myth
6. Bottle or breast, as long as you are feeding your baby you’ve made the right choice
7. The moment you figure out how to breastfeed is the moment you stop listening to lactation consultants
8. Feeding schedule is when baby is hungry
9. Sleeping schedule is when baby is sleepy.
10. Feeding or sleeping can be done wherever we happen to be at the time the need arises
11. Tantrums can usually be handled with a hug or a tickle, or by throwing one myself.
12. TV is a fabulous teacher/nanny/entertainer
13. Censoring is avoidance
14. Freeplay is much more educational than organized activities
15. Clean is a subjective term
16. Doctors are anatomy experts, not gods.
17. Pregnancy should be kept a secret from everyone until crowning.
18. Cribs are merely displays for stuffed animals
19. 20 diapers and 3 changes of clothing are completely unnecessary for a daytrip
20. The only advice/criticism that should be given to another parents is to stop listening to advice/criticism and do what works for them.

And I, as the parent expert, reserve the right to add to, alter, postcript, and revise any and all rules at my discretion.

the addiction of mickey D's

I'm not sure if you have watched Super Size Me. If you haven't, and you have a McDonald's addiction, I suggest that you do.

A few years ago, Mr. Hubsters and I were in our car sitting in front of a red light. We watched people crossing the street. One particular family caught our eye. It was a mom, dad and a little baby no more than 14 months being pushed in the stroller. The baby was reaching, begging, grabbing, screaming at what the mom was holding, wanting to be every part of it. A McDonald's Bag.

It was then that we turned to each other and said, if we ever have kids, he or she won't even know what McDonald's is. Well, it turns out that Buddy had his first McDonald fry yesterday at 13 months. (I didn't keep my promise). One fry turned into 2. then 3, then 4. I stopped it before it got out of hand. As I shoved the rest of the fries in my own mouth so they were all gone from his sight, he still noticed the red container. No matter how hard grandma tried to distract him, turning corners, ducking behind sofa's, turning on Barney, his eyes would revert back to that blasted empty fry containter and he would start wimpering.

I don't get it. The power of McDonald's is fascinating. Babies barely able to walk and talk are already addicted. Ms. Tweedlemum has nicknamed every fast food joint "Chicken and Fries". Tweedleboy and Tweedlegirl will be none the wiser. You can't obviously avoid the big "M" but at least she's trying. Which is what I think I will do from now on! But sometimes if I need peace and quiet, I will just shove a fry in his mouth....shame on me.

moral of the story: Mickey D's is bad. It caused my gall stones.

eco-friendly bamboo onesies

eco-friendly bamboo onesies {new!}
Introducing eco-friendly onesies made from Bamboo Fibre.
Unique graphics designed exclusively by Baby Boomba.

Bamboo is sustainable and 100% naturally grown. It is perfect for any baby's sensitive or allergy prone skin! It thrives naturally without using any pesticides or fertilizers and is 100% biodegradable. As the fastest growing plant in the world, bamboo grows to its maximum height in about 3 months and reaches maturity in 3-4 years. It absorbs and evaporates sweat in a split second and doesn't stick to baby's skin. It’s extraordinary natural breathability keeps your baby comfortable and dry for longer.

All onesies are natural in color. Choices are Brown, Green or Natural Ribbing.
70% Bamboo / 30% Cotton.
-----------------------------------------------
Behind the scenes:

As mentioned in a previous post about my little buddy dude, "the blur", it took about a hundred shots and alot of patience. Having only one shot turn out "ok" is not really a surprise. It doesn't help that Mr. Hubsters is there nagging me "aren't you done yet?." Here is what I normally have to deal with! Obviously, in my rush attempt to get the perfect shot one after the other, my flash neglected to go off.

the adventures with ms. tweedlemum's kids

I offered to help out Ms. Tweedlemum (the other writer of this blog) by babysitting her kids while she went through her most recent phase of "Hi, I just had a baby, so I need to get a makeover".

So I timed the whole day's events around my own buddy's nap schedule (which is what we do for everything or pay the consequences later). This completely went out the window since he decided to wake up at 5:30 am that day. But whatever.

Ms. Tweedlemum is due to ring the door bell at noon. So 12:00 pm rolls around and I'm trying to get him to nap so he can be back on schedule (this is his SECOND nap by the way). I don't think I’ve ever willed him to sleep with my magical powers as hard as I did that day.

So in comes Tweedlemum, Tweedlegirl (4 months) and Tweedleboy (3.5 years). It suddenly dawned on me. How in the world am I going to manage this. The two Tweedlekids are ok. But once you stir buddy into the mix, its game over. Buddy is a little 13 month old energizer bunny who’s limbs never stops moving. Tweedlemum has nicknamed him "the blur" because every picture taken of him somehow renders his body with feathered edges.

Anyways, 10 minutes later, my mom walks in too. I "happened" to mention to her about my day's “events”. She later told me she knew I would need her help but decided to keep quiet and just show up. THANK GOD.

Ms. Tweedlemum is off to her hair appointment. I knew it would take at least 2 hours. Tweedleboy was starting to get a little anxious seeing his mom put her shoes on, so I distracted him by manoeuvring him near the computer. I was quite surprised at his knowledge for technology. His little fingers navigated that mouse with precision like quality comparable to a programmer developing the next major software. Nothing else to really say about him other than the fact that his little butt was plastered to that chair for the next 3 hours.

Which left us to deal with buddy and Tweedlegirl. Now, Tweedlegirl is the most adorable thing u can encounter but she's also a sac of potatoes. Which makes it easy for buddy to attempt to steal her soother, try to see if those eyeballs are real, pull those fingers...you get the idea. (Tweedlemum, if you are reading this, I'm only kidding, you don't really think I’d let him poke her eyeballs out do you?)

So, time for Tweedlegirl’s change. But of course, Tweedlemum in her haste to rush to our place, forgot to pack the essential diaper. No worries, stage 3’s to the rescue for a 4 month old. She looked like Steve Urkel.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty much smooth sailing, just wrestling buddy off trying to hug Tweedleboy (who's a little frightened by his bursts of energy) and reminding buddy that Tweedlegirl is a real human and not a doll.

4.5 hours later, in walks Ms. Tweedlemum, looking as sexy as ever with her new slick 'do. She also felt it good to mention how relieved she was seeing my mom's car still in the driveway. Gee, Thanks.

She offers to look after buddy for me in return. Now when that happens, I'm pretty sure her blog will be double, if not quadruple mine.

Many thanks to:
- My mom, who saved my butt and sanity (not that it was that bad).
- Tweedlemum, who opened my eyes and gave me that dose of reality to NOT have my second child until sometime in 2020.

Moral of the Story: looking after a 13 month old and a 4 month old at the same time is equally as nerve-wracking as setting your own hair on fire.

Hats off to: all moms/dads who have more than 1 child living with them. Even more hats to those who's children are less than a year and a half apart.

the power of the nap

You know you are pressed for time when the only moment you can blog is typing it in your blackberry while putting the baby to bed. Only because it takes him a good 25 minutes to drift off. (So I might as well be efficient). We haven't gotten to the point of saying nite nite, kisses, and me leaving the room while he blissfully puts himself to sleep. But we have come a long way (I'll be sure to share that in a later blog).

So I'm sure you've all heard the phrase "sleep when the baby sleeps". I hate that phrase. Probably because everyone and their uncle's brother preached it. If I were to sleep when he sleeps, I would get absolutely NOTHING done. And even if I did, his naps were so short in the beginning that I would only be wakened 20 min later all disgruntled because my nap was cut off. Never mind trying to run a business. My work hours begin the second he is in lala land. I will literally RUN and start the stop watch. So, to sum it up, No I never sleep when the baby sleeps! Something is always more important than napping. Shame on me.

But yesterday, putting him down for his afternoon nap, I was fighting my tiredness. Resist the urge to sleep. Don't give in to Aunt Jane's preaching. Imagine what you could do in that hour and a half. But after fighting with my own demon for 10 minutes, I said to heck with it. I scooped up buddy, headed to my room and we had a luxurious 2 hour nap. Infact this time, it was ME that had to wake him up.

Moral of the story: Nap when the baby naps: once in a while.
Unrelated Pet Peeve of the day: Cleaning my stovetop with that white stuff.

this is no common brain fart

So those who know me BC (before child), knew that I was an extremely organized person. I was usually "on top" of things. (Ask any ex co-worker). I still am (I'd like to think - but on a different level)

I have finally come to terms that I might be going crazy. I say this because over the past couple of months I've been doing things out of character. Most of these scenarios involve memory loss. Like forgetting what I did the past weekend, or better yet 5 minutes ago. When faced with the question "So, how was your weekend? What did you guys do?" I would be like "Huh?, I don't recall". Boiling water for pasta only to have the water evaporate because it was boiling for an hour. I won't mention the fact that there was no pasta in it or the fact that the house almost caught fire. Twice. Going to the store for ONE item: toothpaste. And coming home without it. This has happend with numerous grocery items.

Yesterday's festivities took the prize:

• Passing my own street driving home.
  

• Picking up my pyjamas to change into them and then wondering where the heck they went. Searched for 10 minutes . Realizing that I hung them up again.
  

The list goes on but like with everything else, I don't remember.
Crap. We still have no toothpaste. I guess there will be no smooching with anyone in the house.

Moral of the Story: Stop thinking too much

the nursing area

Sooooooo, I take the fam to the brand new local library. Nice! It looks like a mall. A fireplace, quiet reading areas, internet stations, wide open spaces. We sat and read picture books for a while, got a new library card, played a shockingly difficult game of Blues Clues on a computer station. All in all, I would guess we were there 3 hours. I swear, 5 different people pointed out the new nursing station. (Little did they know I had already BFed in a discreet corner in the picture book section) I do feel bad because I was a little snippy with number 5. I know, I know! The librarians were all trying to be helpful and I really don’t fault them at all for it. I’m sure it looked all new age and family friendly in the blueprints, when they blocked off an area just for exposing nipple, but to me a nursing station says “Hey, we’re all pro-breastfeeding here, but would you mind locking yourself in this dark little room that’s a minor step up from a toilet to feed your baby, because no one here wants to see that” Don’t get me wrong here, I am a prude, I've tried nursing areas before. The local mall has a little alcove in the ladies room complete with sink, a change table, a surprisingly uncomfortable chair, and a large clear box with an opening at the top which I really didn’t get. There I sat, BFing, while a parade of elderly, weekday, mall patrons popped in to use the “private sink”, all the while thinking, I should have just sat in the foodcourt because then I could have had a coffee and an eggmcmuffin.

one woman show

Today was a little hectic. One would know that when purchasing a 4 pm lunch at the 7-11. Mind you, I was quite surprised by this local corner store. I had the intention of going in their to ship a product. So I walk in, and the lady behind the counter greets me. "Hello, Hi". I then walk to the back where the postal outlet thing is. I stand there for 10 minutes. The same lady that greeted me comes to the postal counter and takes my package and processes it. "Oh thank you!" I then venture to the sandwich counter because I was starving at this point. The same lady starts soliciting their wonderful sandwiches. Infact, she was just making them and had samples ready for me to eat. Um. Ok. She goes to another counter and passes me a plate of yummy looking recently made sandwiches. I tried a sliver. I thought about it and felt rude to just walk out without getting anything, so I bought a Louisiana Wrap and a yummy Arizona Ice Tea. The same lady then cashed me out and wished me a "pleasant afternoon".

Talk about a one woman show. If she had a little toddler around, she would be Ultimate Mompreneur.

Unrelated Pet Peeve of the day: Filling gas in -10 degree weather, winds blowing at an astronomical 160 mph. Grandma drivers in a one lane open stretch of road.

introducing ms. tweedlemum

So introductions.
I’m the friend who said “hey, why don’t you write a blog”
To which Ms. Boomba says “I don’t have enough to say so you have to help me”
So here I am, contributing.
Meanwhile someone has already written War and Peace on this page.

It’s all cool. I’ve always been a journal writer, just one that has trouble finding a few minutes to sit and actually write. I have some great journals I kept from my childhood.
Here’s an entry from 1982:


Yeah... good advice.

Fastforward

NOW... I’m a designer, currently employed as a caregiver to a 3 year old scholar, a 4 month old acrobat, and a 30 something musician. The pay sucks, but the benefits are incredible.
If I could get a substantial raise, I would stay indefinitely.
That will take some negotiating!

men and their gadgets

I woke up to almost stepping on the cat's barf. He threw up right at the foot of the bed. It was still quite obviously dark, so had I not seen what looked like to be a turd out of the corner of my eye, I would have started my morning off on a really bad foot.

But anyways, that's besides the point. My topic is gadgets. If anyone knows my Mr. Hubsters, they would know that his love is his daily chat with Rogers (our telecom company) either arguing or trying to get some type of service/deal for his PDA. He also attended (BC-Before Child) and helped organize a group where men would meet once a month and talk about PDA's (I called it his monthly "nerd" group).

So recently, having started this business and also managing my other graphic design business, I have been pounded with many emails. Mr. Hubsters has been trying to convince me for YEARS to get a PDA. I hated them. I hated the bulkiness. I hated the look. I hated being so "available". I hated everything about it. I hated it even more because of his obession with it.

But I realized everytime I was out, I would come home to a billion messages and spend another hour or two responding. I couldn't keep up and have a 1 year old hanging off my legs. So I gave in. I decided to get a Blackberry. (which silently thrilled Mr. Hubsters because it gave him another excuse to call Rogers).

I must say that I am absolutely in love with my new device. It's more addictive than Facebook. Since my life revolves around computers, it's a necessary extension of my work. I was working 14-16 hour days on the computer (BC-Before Child).

So a couple nights ago, I decided to go early to bed and take my device with me. I was entering in all my contacts. Mr. Hubsters looked at me like I was wearing the latest Federicks of Hollywood. But I wasn't. I was wearing a nasty old sweatshirt and long johns. I was like "What's with the look?". His reply "You look so sexy with that PDA".

Moral of the Story: Men can be surprising. Keep up with Technology. Lingerie can be a possible waste of money.

to shower or not to shower?

If this was 1 year, 1 month and 2 weeks ago, I would have said eww.

I normally wake up with the full intention of taking a shower. However, this can only be accomplished if Buddy is taking his morning nap or if I stick him in his high chair in front of the tv where he can clearly see me out of the corner of his eye. Which means I would have to haul his high chair up 2 flights of stairs, with his breakfast and whatever else. No, he won't sit in the swing. No he won't sit in a carseat. No, I can't let him run around my bedroom and possibly kill himself. So I normally opt for the nap method.

But I was fortunate to have Mr. Hubsters home today which really means that I can shower in peace. But working from home and trying to get a billion things done would only make the shower thing a whole procrastination.

• 8:00 am: This time, I woke Buddy up which is usually the reverse.
• 8:30 am: Struggle with Buddy to have him eat breakfast and not dump it all over the floor.
• 9:00 am : Manage to get 30 seconds of Regis and Kelly before checking emails.
• 10:00 am: I start to cut some fabric.
• 11:00 am: Time for his nap.
• 11:20 am: Buddy is fast asleep. Good, I can now shower. But wait, I need to finish something else. I grab the iron.
• 11:30 am: Mr. Hubsters decides to help me build a sign for the booth at our tradeshow (after a month of nagging). He heads to the basement.
• 12:00 pm: Door bell rings like our house is on fire. (Shhhh!!! you'll wake him up you idiot!!!). I ran halfway to the door only to realize I was still in my robe and bunny pyjamas. I yell at Mr. Hubsters to answer the door forgetting that he too was in his robe but with Homer Simpson pyjamas. It was the stupid Post Man.
• 12:30 pm: Buddy awakes his nap and it's another 4 hours of entertaining him while trying to work, put some screws through wood, iron, sew, answer emails, dodge telemarketers, cook lunch, fight with the cat.
• 4:00 pm: Buddy's nap time. Good, I can shower. But wait, I can use his nap time to do something more productive than showering.
• 5:30 pm: Buddy wakes up. Mr. Hubsters is nowhere to be seen.
• 6:00 pm: I decided that I wanted to go out to the store to buy some pants. I realize my next window of opportunity will be next Tuesday between 6:15 - 7:10pm.
• 6:10: Mr. Hubsters is making dinner while we contemplate on me going out to buy pants.
• 6:30 pm: I finally get in the shower.
• 7:00 pm: We eat our spaghetti with Buddy throwing bits of pasta all over the floor.
• 7:30 pm: Clean up
• 8:00 pm : Something smells STINKY!!!!
• 8:15 pm: Buddy gets a bath
• 8:45 pm: Buddy gets to watch just 1 more episode of the Backyardigans
• 9:00 pm: Time to put Buddy to bed.
• 9:30 pm: Get on my computer!
• 12:30 am: Writing this BLOG.

Moral of the Story: Use your time wisely. Do not drop by without giving me 24 hours notice. I never made it to the store. Any other Mompreneurs are welcome to share their day.

please stop screaming!

Our newest hurdle (which won't seem to go away anytime soon) is buddy's separation anxiety. It's pretty bad. We are talking like if nature calls, you would have to bring him with you or fear that your eardrums will be permantly damaged. (bringing him into the bathroom is a whole other blog)

So every Sunday we would go to church and hope for the best that he would stay in the nursery like every other child in there. Someone would distract him, I would sneak out.

Two seconds later, I can hear him SCREAMING. Now this is while I'm inside sitting in the sanctuary. And our church can hold 2500 people. (I think). So try to imagine how high his octaves are. So one of us goes back and ends up sitting with him the rest of the time. This is just one scenario of our lives.

I'm sure that EVERY parent has gone through this. Some worse than others. But just like his early colic days, I was convinced at that time, his colic would never end. But it did. And this better too.

----------------------------------------------------------

I did some googling and found this on Baby Center:

Seven to 12 months
At around seven months your baby will realize she is independent of you; this is a huge cognitive leap worthy of celebration. Unfortunately, this new understanding of separateness makes your baby anxious. She's become so attached to you that when you leave her alone, even for a minute, she will burst into tears. She doesn't have the information yet that you will always come back. And sneaking out when her back is turned - when you leave her at nursery, for example - won't help. In fact, it may just make her more afraid that you aren't coming back. Hard as it can be, say goodbye and go while she's watching.

A now famous British study shows exactly how clueless babies are about their own existence. Researchers placed several infants under the age of one in front of a mirror to see whether they understood that the reflection was an image of themselves. They didn't. The children patted their mirror image, behaving as if they were seeing another baby. And when researchers dabbed red rouge on each baby's nose and plopped them back in front of the mirror, they always tried to touch their reflection's nose, not their own.
----------------------------------------------------------

- I agree with this, although with some comments. Don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no issues leaving him with someone else. (yes, it is heart wrenching to hear him scream), but more so the caregiver's mental state after enduring endless hours of this screaming. (notice there is no "cry" here).

- As for the mirrors, he does pound on the mirrors, but is it because he thinks it's someone else? I never see him going to other babies and pounding them in the face.

Moral of the Story: Do what works best for you and forget what everyone else says. (I should practice what I am preaching)

welcome

My friend mentioned to me that I should start a blog. However I'm really not the type of person to open up my life to the public. So I am dragging her here with me to write.

But then I thought, hmmmm....it's about building a community and sharing life experiences so others can benefit, laugh (or not) from what's written here. So I'm throwing away all my inhibitions. This blog is about anything! It's not just about babywearing and parenthood, but whatever floats across my brain for that moment. Like right now, I feel like some Doritos and watching Lipstick Jungle. (I have the house to myself for 2 hours).

Moral of the Story: There isn't one.