how to know if you are a mom entrepreneur

Some point's I've gathered about myself over the course of 2 years!

1. Your healthy lunch is a slice of bread folded over with some ham stuck in between.
2. Sending and receiving emails at 3am means nothing.
3. Hitting the stop watch as soon as someone goes down for a nap.
4. Don't Call. Contact by email only.
5. Asking yourself if you really need to use the washroom or is your bladder fooling you. Same thing goes for a shower.
6. The post man/woman only recognizes you with your pyjamas on.
7. You time your bookkeeping for the duration of the Wiggles show.
8. Typing emails with one hand.
9. Forgetting what you did a half second ago.
10. Your suppliers know your children by their first name.
11. Your closet is where you make your “professional” phone calls.
12. Assume standing position over your laptop for 10 minutes even though the chair is right beside you.
13. Your business cards have applesauce stains.
14. You bribe your child(ren) with candy and cookies before making a phone call.
15. A Happymeal is a business expense.
16. Diego is sometimes your best friend.
17. Your blackberry is another child.

pass the peanut butter!

Ok, it has been just way too long, but we've just been so busy. So I thought I'd share a little story. Just make sure you aren't eating.

So I was in the shower the other day when Mr. Hubsters runs up the stairs like an elephant, holding Buddy like he had some kind of plague. He plops Buddy into the shower with me and I'm like "what the..." and he takes off downstairs.

Ok great. So it turns out that Buddy had a diaper explosion. According to Mr. Hubsters, the story goes like this: Mr. Hubsters was fixing him a light snack and turned around to the all familiar quietness (which really means that Buddy is up to no good). Mr. Hubsters does a second take. "Who the heck gave him Peanut Butter?". He was staring at Buddy for like a good 2 minutes watching him smear this Peanut Butter all over the carpet, squishing it in his hands. He then realized it was only him and Buddy in the room and unless it was the Ghost of Christmas Past who happened to whiz by and pass Buddy some Peanut Butter, that it wasn't Peanut Butter, it was something unfathomable.

Needless to say, it took us an hour to clean our carpet. There was even "Peanut Butter" in all his Lego. Yum!

what goes around comes around

Before child, I was one of those individuals who thought "oh, my kid is never going to be like that".

That meant:

~ behave like an angel (ha!)
~ eat what I give him (an even bigger ha!)
~ no McDonald's (can I capitalize HA?!)
~ no negotiating (haven't really hit that point yet, but I'm sure I'll fold like a deck of cards)
~ no harness because he will walk beside me like a well behaved child!

Needless to say, that all went out the window with the 5th point happening today.

I went and bought a Harness. Why? Because once Buddy is out of his stroller, it's game over. You will exhaust yourself to the point of collapsing by chasing him, never mind in this heatwave of 40C weather. Or you will most likely find yourself diving from a moving vehicle as he plummets himself into oncoming traffic.

I haven't seen these harnesses before last weekend. I always thought they looked like dog leashes. You know, the ones that are retractable. I mean, who wants to walk their kid like a dog?

But these ones are made to look like backpacks. There is even a big pocket so you can store stuff in it. The tail of the monkey is actually the strap with a little loop where you put your hand in to hold it. They come in a Monkey, Dog, Horse or Unicorn style.

I talked to a couple of friends. Sure you get the stares and comments, some good some bad, but who wants to sacrifice safety? Tell the gawkers to take a picture!

These are available for $14.99 CAD. Check out the manufacturer at GOLD BUG

the aftermath from the last post!

This will be a short post. Keep in mind, Mr. Hubsters NEVER reads any of my blogs. It's purely coincidental that this event took place.

Well, today is my birthday. I was awaked to a nice little gift handed to me by Buddy and Papa. I opened it. It's was a bluetooth headset.

I asked. "Did you not read my latest blog! (see here)." He said "No. Why?" I laughed hysterically.

His answer for the gift was that, if he could convince me to get the Blackberry, he could convince me now to move onto accessories, hence the Bluetooth headshet.

Thanks Mr. Hubsters! I love you!

P.S. I can now update the stats. We now have 6 bluetooth headsets in our household. 2 for each family member (including the baby).

bluetooth headsets

Mr. Hubsters is an avid fan of technology. Infact, I should call him Mr. Gadget instead. But which guy isn't. And to think that I started him on it.

Back in 1998, his life was so disorganized using a little black organizer binder to handwrite all his meetings in. I then got so fed up of him forgetting our "dates" that I introduced him to the powerful "DaVinci", a handheld device to keep track of your life.

He then upgraded to the "Cassiopeia", this time a Pocket PC. Actually I bought it for him as a Christmas gift which then costed me $900. What an idiot I was.

Two years later, we went to Macao, China. He was like a kid in a candy factory. Just think of all the gadgets there that aren't available in North America. He then upgraded to the "O2", at a mere $1200 Canadian (the cost of each flight). A year later, he upgraded to the second generation O2 at a cost that I'm sure has been kept secret from me.

After that, I lost track. All I know is that he has had at least 4 other devices since then and has one just as an alarm to wake him up. HUH??? This doesn't count all the other wires, accessories, and other crap that comes with all this stuff.

Which brings me to the topic of my discussion. Well, it isn't really a topic, just a question.

Why do people feel it the need to wear bluetooth headsets? Is it to look cool? How lazy can one be to have this thing plastered to their ear rather than just pick up the phone and talk? Are you really THAT important that you are talking to someone 24/7?

I asked Mr. Gadget these very questions. He had an argument, but I turned my brain off and let him ramble. Today, I saw a lady wear it in the shopping mall while shopping for clothes. I just rolled my eyes.

I used to edit weddings. On one wedding I did, there was a woman who was about 50ish. She was the MC at this wedding. While she was there at the podium doing her thing, I noticed she was wearing a stinkin' new shiny bluetooth headset. Now, if someone calls her, will she answer it and say to the bride and groom "Um, excuse me, I have to take this call".

I think that's what did it for me.

But before I get bashed, fine, if you are a trader, a business person, in the car, on con-calls all day, sure. But at a wedding being an MC?

P.S.
Mr. Gadget just got home from work. I asked him how many bluetooth headsets he has. He tried to divert the question. I threatened him with unmentionables. He said 3 headsets and 2 stereo headsets. Perfect. One for each day of the business week. Just like me and my shoes.

poo, yes just poo

What better topic to start the day off with. I apologize for not writing for the past several days. Had to deal with some Poo.

Poo of all kinds: business poo, life poo, baby poo, cat poo, you name it.

Business Poo
Usual stuff, latest is that I think the Mail Lady is stealing my mail. I've been waiting on 2 shipments anxiously and having my mailbox completely empty for the past 3 days is sending me bad signals. She gives the term "disgruntled postal worker" a whole new meaning. If I have a door delivery, she is ringing the doorbell like someone lit her hand on fire. Who knows why? She doesn't wear a uniform (maybe they cut back). She doesn't drive a Canada Post Truck (maybe they cut back on that too) . So for all I know, she could be some lady from who knows where with a key to our mailbox.

Life Poo
Don't have the energy to tackle writing this.

Baby Poo
If it's not Buddy dealing with another round of constipation, then it's Buddy dealing with another round of diarrhea. The other day, I thought it would be nice to have him all nice and clean and have dinner prepared when Mr. Hubsters came home. (this domestic thing will have all my friends laughing for SURE). But just as you know it, with the water boiling, the cat getting on my nerves, Dr. Phil yapping in the background driving me crazy, Buddy decides to have diarrhea. This was EVERYWHERE. He needed to be hosed down. Poor guy.

Cat Poo
If not the above, then it's wrestling with Yoshi, our cat with his latest adventure; pooing on the carpet in the same spot. Why? Either a) he's mad because we pay more attention to Buddy now, or b) Mr. Hubsters hasn't completely changed his litter to a brand new box of litter. (I've given up on the whole poo collecting thing since being preggers as they say don't be near cat poo while expecting). I am hoping Mr. Hubsters doesn't notice that I'm not preggosaurus anymore.

And there you have it.

everyday questions

Questions that I've come up with from the events that happened today in sequential order:

• Why does it take 20 minutes of mental prep and a half hour to get out of the house to make a trip to the grocery store to return canola oil?
• Why do you always get stuck in a line behind some woman who is arguing with the cashier over 2 dollars AFTER you have emptied all your groceries on the belt? Don't forget about the fussy baby in the cart.
  
• Why is it that no one helps you open the door when you have a stroller?
• Why does Buddy's soother always fall on something nasty? Like on the floor right in the same spot the lady just mopped up with that "clean" water? FACE DOWN!
• Why do people have staring problems?
• How do you manage to sweat from just walking to the mailbox?
• Why do teens congregate at the neighbourhood park and try to act all macho and intimidating? (hmmmm lemme think about that, I think I used to be one)
• How did my stomach survive after drinking that ice-cap?
  
• How does a clean kitchen magically transform into a war zone as soon as Mr. Hubsters arrives home?
  
• How in the living earth did Buddy manage to carry groceries from the dining room to the kitchen? A bag of cat food on the left hand along with a bag of brown sugar on the right hand? He's only 20 pounds.
  

quiet doesn't mean good

As written in a previous blog entry, what I miss most about being a non-parent is staring at the wall and just thinking.

But at certain times of the day, something happens. Peace and quiet descends upon this household. Sometimes it's unnoticeable. But if it lasts more than 2 minutes, I know something is wrong. I can't revel in the delight.

This morning, I was able to shower in semi-peace. I put the gate up to the door of the bathroom and let Buddy wander around my bedroom. Of course, I had to prep for 10 minutes. Dump all his toys on the floor, flick on Barney and whatever else. Not to mention take off all the 20 drawer handles which required a screwdriver and makes it darn near impossible to get underwear and socks.

So there I am showering and then all of the sudden, I notice that Buddy isn't standing at the gate screaming in his baby jargon or throwing Lego into the bathroom, or running around like a chicken without a head. I poke out the shower door. Noooobody. With the shower still running, I step out nearly having a "help, I can't get up" episode. There he is, around the corner squeezing out the hand lotion he managed to steal off my night table. And eating it.

I climb over the gate almost breaking my neck, grab it out of his hand and pursue whatever left I had of my shower. A peeping tom would have had a field day.

I don't know why I never learn my own lesson. Other long peace and quiet times means that Buddy has gotten the remote control, tossed it on the floor so the batteries come out, and then sticking it in his mouth. Other times means that he is squirting all the milk from his bottle onto the floor or table and using his hands as Kleenex. He's quiet for a reason. Because the sooner I find out, the sooner he gets in trouble. And he's only 14 months. Babies aren't dumb.

Just remember, if you have kids and your house seems disturbingly quiet, it most likely means a bad thing, unfortunately.

immobilized

Ok. I have absolutely nothing to do but type this blog or watch Buddy eat an apple. It is unfathomable how dependant we are on the basic power. In the middle of sewing, the power went out. That meant that Barney went out. That meant the iron went out. AHA! The laptop has backup battery! Great! I can surf. Nope. Wireless network out of range. Crap! Ok, let me call hubby at work. Nope. Phone out of Range. (Doesn’t these home phones have 4 hour backup battery?) ok….so I can write a blog about nothing. I think I should be a good mom and entertain Buddy for the 100th time. It’s only 10:30am and it’s totally OK that I’ve run out of things to do. Wait, those 4 pound weights are on the floor.

5 min later: ok I attempted to do some stomach crunches only to have Buddy climb on my stomach pretending I was a horse. I got out my hand weights with him lifting one for me halfway across the room almost killing himself. The silence is deafening. I got out the cordless vacuum and started vacuuming to simulate the feeling of power.

The last power outage we had was a month ago and lasted 2 hours. Those two hours were the longest of my life. I need to live on a Farm and get back to the basics! I also need to stop typing now since Buddy has found the delete key and making me retype everything again.

OH Wait! POWER IS BACK! Our lives are normal again. 20 crunches accomplished.

move over lynda carter, I'm taking over

I have never felt so accomplished in my life. Today, I managed to get a shower (while buddy was awake), do laundry (as in drying it too), create 9 more Hideouts, answer a dozen emails, take Buddy to the mailbox and then to the park, MAKE DINNER (which included mash potatoes, veal, rice, and carrots). Keep in mind every item added to the menu adds 15 minutes of time. In between that, putting Buddy to nap TWICE and fighting with him to eat TWICE, trying to feed myself and not starve. I think that's about it. Wait, I forgot to mention finishing a design job for a client and of course writing this blog. All before 6:30 pm.

Last night I asked Mr. Hubsters to take Buddy upstairs and fold another set of laundry while I tackle some work. They were gone for a real long time. I'm thinking wow, he must have got alot done. He comes down the stairs with Buddy in arms about an hour later and said he got 3 shirts folded. I screamed "IT TOOK YOU A FREAKING HOUR TO FOLD 3 SHIRTS?", to which he answered "I was trying to fight buddy off from throwing all the clothes on the floor!" Um OK, all you had to do was MOVE the clothes to the CENTER of the bed where he can't reach it.

I'm not bragging. Before Buddy, I was an efficient bee. I've slacked off. When I do the laundry, it IS an accomplishment. Taking the hamper from the room to the landing will require about a day. Another day to make it to the basement. Another day to move it back up to the room. Another TWO days to fold it. Add Another TWO weeks for Mr. Hubsters to fold it. I'm not kidding.

Now multiply that by 3 people's sets of laundry. Mr. Hubsters likes to do his own because he doesn't like the way I wash his clothes. HUH?

And lastly, I must not forget to thank Treehouse for making this day possible.

kinda related: when I was 7, I was Wonderwoman for halloween and my costume caught fire (while I was in it) by a candle in a pumpkin while ringing someone's doorbell. I should have sued them.

lamaze for stress

Ok. I have been suffering from a little stress. (who isn't). Last week was no picnic either. You know something is very wrong when you pull out your old maternity pants. Except for the fact that you're not pregnant.

I couldn't find anything to wear. Mr. Hubsters for the first time got fed up of me changing 5 times that he ran to my closet and picked out something for me. This has never happened in the 20+ years I've known him. (We've known each other since we were 12). Then a week later, I "seem" to fit into my normal clothes. I guess that's what happens for being a woman.

I brought down some dumbbells to do a little workout. I might as well do something productive if I'm forced to watch Barney. Needless to say, those dumbbells haven't moved. Actually, correction, Buddy has moved them into his play box. Imagine, a 14 month old lifting 4 pound weights.

So back to stress. Like any other mom entrepreneur, I'm sure they've tackled this. My stress comes with rapid heartbeat and a slew of other stuff I won't mention. To combat this, I sometimes do the Lamaze exercises. It seems to be working.

Before Buddy was born, I use to watch those episodes on TLC like Baby Story and blah blah. I tried to get Mr. Hubsters to watch it to prepare for the birth, but who was I kidding. He said it was too "graphic". I said "If you call yourself a hardcore UFC fan watching bloody faces wrestle each other to death, you can very well watch a baby being born." He sat through maybe one episode with his hands over his face.

Anyways, there was one episode that showed a Muslim lady go through labour. I was fascinated. In their tradition, they were to be quiet and just breathe through. She didn't utter one peep. And I was determined to be her. And so I did. My midwives commended me for it. (I must also thank my Lamaze Lady who endured us for 6 weeks).

So I've used the same technique to handle stress. And it has proven to work (at least most of the time). So if you and I are having a conversation and suddenly you see me drift off into space, don't take it personally, I'm just doing some breathing.

sushi for the creatively minded

If you are a creative work at home mom and make your own products to sell, I highly recommend that you list yourself with Etsy. It's a great community of people who boast things all handmade. It's so great infact, that I have my Hideouts and Onesies listed on there. (see the Baby Boomba Etsy shop). You will also get addicted at browsing everyone else's creations. It will give you inspiration and appreciation for all the time and effort spent on creating that unique product.

While browsing, I came across this really cool Etsy shop. She has created this Deluxe Baby Washcloth Sushi Set valued at $25.00 (that's a steal!). While glancing at this firsthand, I was like "who is selling sushi online?!" But Look closer! (click image to see it bigger)

This is so ingenious, creative and most of all different! I mean, which parent wouldn't to receive this as a baby shower gift?

This super fun Washcloth Sushi TM Set includes:♥ Tako (green octopus finger puppet)♥ Kurodai (red & white striped snapper fish finger puppet)♥ Three sushi rolls (washcloth with felt center)♥ Five white Gerber baby washcloths♥ Grosgrain 'Seaweed' - hand-stitched!♥ Felt Ginger & Felt Wasabi - hand-stitched!♥ Reusable Chopsticks (color may vary from photo)♥ Bamboo & Acrylic Soba Noodle Plate (completely reusable!), 7.5"x7.5" square♥ Plastic decorative grass

While on the same subject of sushi, for Buddy's first birthday that happened a month ago, I decided to be creative and make a "sushi" dessert tray. Though it's not made up of sushi. The seaweed is made from fondant died green. The california roll is a marshmallow with coconut flakes on top to similate rice. I also have orange sugar to mimic the fish eggs on top. For the tuna sashimi, the bottom is a rice krispie square cut into a rectangular shape. The tuna salmon on top is a marshmallow sliced in half. And the seaweed and piece of wasabi is the dyed green fondant.

I've also posted a picture of the Pablo Cake (from the Backyardigans) that tweedlemum had so graciously helped me with. By the end of this whole 5+ hour process (not including the Sushi Dessert Tray), I was ready to throw out Pablo and every cooking utensil in my kitchen.

But again, all you need is imagination! And time of course.

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,

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!

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.

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.

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