good days and bad

You know how sometimes work can be the kind of a place, where you can have good days and bad days. Well. I'm finding that taking care of my home and two kids is sort of like that, too. Children can almost be compared to co-workers, co-inhabitor's of the same functioning universe. Except that there is no time away from them. They are the co-workers you room with, sleep with, work with, eat with... they are always there!!! They can be the best thing to have around one day and then the next day they can just be the biggest pain. They can be totally logical and then totally illogical the next minute. Perdictable and under controll yet also creators of inexplicable chaoss and cause for complete loss of all controll. They are the one thing in your life you love so much that you have a hard time explaining it to anyone else (except for another parent, perhaps?) yet you cannot wait to have a few hours all to yourself at the end of the day. Extreme joy as well as work, work... work. It all can be so demanding that you dont know how to find more time in the day and also such a relief of your stress that you wonder how you ever lived without them... talk about "catch 22". Hmmm. Today was good day! p.s. Stella has turned white! Yeah, it only took a couple of months. My kids are from the same father after all. Ha. Really bad case of baby jaundice? Maybe!

what's wrong?

What's wrong with this picture? If you can guess, you'll have a chance of winning ... ok, ok. There is no winners here. Yes! It's snowing again. I wish I could say it's raining cats and dogs, because I just love that nutty saying. But it looks more like it's snowing cats and dogs. What’s wrong with the world? It’s March! Easter is two weeks away. It just should not be like this. No, no, no!!!!!

look who's growing up

The baby days pass so quickly. I had forgotten how quickly. Stella is starting to grow out of that little baby stage and she's not even three months old yet. She has stopped sleeping all day and night long and is much more of a handful during the day. (Lucky me!) But she's also a lot more interactive and Kaspar totally appreciates that. She responds to all sorts of facial expressions, smiles back, giggles and talks back in full sentences. Yeah, right! Full sentences in baby language, I mean. The ghoo, ghoo, ghaa, ghaa kind of stuff. And she loves "tummy time"! I remember the first few weeks, when Kaspar was placed on his tummy... he despised it. He'd start to cry even before he was put down, in anticipation. Not this chick! She loves sleeping and hanging out on her belly. And she has this amazing little body that's able to bend into a letter C while she's on her belly. It's so cool! The legs go up, the head comes way up... It's amazing what babies are capable of. I could not last for more then a few seconds lying like that.

mommy in a baloon

Just in case you were wondering what I look like, when I'm stuck in a balloon ... This is the great little drawing done by my two and a half year old. Unfortunately, whenever he does do a cool drawing, like this one, he also likes to take the largest marker and "colour it in". Which really means just scribbling over the drawing again and again and again until there is no trace of the original object dawn. So, I'm thankful for my digital camera, which allows me occasionally to capture one of these great little pictures before the get coloured in.

garbage man

A few weeks ago Kaspar got a new pair of gloves and instantly they were named "garbage gloves". Indeed, we have a house full of "garbage gloves", "garbage jackets", "garbage boots", "garbage pants", "garbage bags", "garbage trucks", "garbage hats", "garbage sunglasses"... And Kaspar constantly plays the garbage man, sorting not only the recycling, but also emptying out the garbage cans, putting his sister's diapers into the compost bin and taking the bags to the garage. The only toy he plays with every singe day is his garbage truck. The constant questions during the day have to do with: "Is that garbage or recycling?" and "Can I put this in the garbage?" and "When is Roger coming next?" We even eat breakfast in the mornings for our garbage man Roger and list every detail of his truck for every spoonful of oatmeal. The most important day of the week is Wednesday. If you guessed that it's garbage day, you're right, of course. Yes. Wednesday is garbage day. Wednesday is Kaspar's favourite day. On Wednesday we have to get dressed and be ready to jump up and run outside to meet Roger, no matter what the weather is like. And God forbid we get out walking on Bloor street, while he's wearing his "garbage gloves". Then he pretty much takes on the role of Roger and even attempts to introduce himself as Roger to complete strangers. As if anybody else knows or cares who Roger is. But Kaspar does not care. Roger is his hero. A picture of Roger and his truck is framed and placed among family and friends on Kaspar's special wall. It has taken me months to convince my child not to pick up all the garbage on the street. But he only began to listen to me, when I explained that Roger does not pick up garbage that's not in garbage cans, either. So far we've all taken all this with a grain of salt and most times we play along with him, but I sometimes wonder how long this obsession will last? I really have no interest in garbage, myself.

stella

This chick really likes the outdoors. If I get her into a stroller and sleeping, she can easily sleep outdoors for a good three hour stretch. I cannot wait until the temperature outdoors gets a little more friendly...
A lot of parents feel that their kids sleep better while in a stroller, but it usually has to do with the movement, while they are being gently rocked in the moving carriage. Stella sleeps well as long as her nose is out of the blankets and breathing the fresh, crisp air. She does not need to keep moving. It's awesome!
She also has great wardrobe for the outdoors - literally dozens of different hats! My kids are the lucky recipients of hats not only from my own childhood, their friends, cousins, but also brand new styles, shapes and colours from grandma, oma, the other oma and my good friend Tania (she's super crafty and makes not only wearables, but also customized knit teddy bears which are absolutely stunning!) Bu that's a subject for another day. Admittedly, I'm a bit of a hat collector myself, so, it's only fitting that my kids have a whole drawer full of hats, is it not? It's just sad that they grow out of these adorable clothes and hats too fast. Way too fast!

no more snow!

This morning I took my cup of coffee and turned on the radio to a blaring: "expect another ten to fifteen centimeters by the end of..." What the f*&#??? We've had so much of the white stuff this winter! Enough allready! I truly felt frustrated. Almost on the verge of tears. Angry tears. I'm so done with winter. Done. Finished. Sick of it. And even if the weather is cooperating and the days are sunny and relatively mild and nights crisp and pretty in the moonlight... It will not convince me to like the winter. No more!!! If this was December, I might feel differently, I suppose. I admit that I do not usualy sniff at the prospect of a white Christmas. But a white Easter is another thing entirely. All this talk of snow was especially shocking today, because yesterday was the first day I could smell a hint of spring in the air. You know that bit of a muddy, humid, sunny smell.... when the snow is melting and the trees seem to be warming up to the idea of green and the sun is warm... I need spring!

keep it up

Well, Stella has found her fist. Before I had kids I thought that was some sort of an inside joke, when very excited mothers said - my baby just found her fist! But it turns out to be very true. For the first month or two of their lives little babies are just moving their arms without ever knowing how to control them. And then one day, all of a sudden they find the fist and from that moment on, more often then not, the fist ends up being in their mouth. Stella has just hit that stage. She also “coooos’ and “aaahs” and makes all sorts of other sounds with her lips. Kaspar tries to tell her to say “da-da”. I’m not quite sure, but I think it has to do with a cartoon, where some bear or raccoon baby is being taught to say da-da. I cannot keep up with the stuff he learns from cartoons. I know I should, but I’ve lost track. Today he said something about “wonder pets” and I was totally lost. It turns out that he’s seen a show about wonder pets on TV. Go figure! And they say that it’s hard for parents to keep up with their teenagers. Gosh! What am I going to do, when he hits the teens????

hockey man

Kaspar sat me down about a week ago and very seriously informed me that he wants to be: "a garbage man first, then a fire man after, but the best is when I be a hockey man!" For my own sake I hope the “hockey man” comes to fruition before the garbage man.

In the picture he’s wearing his “skates” and his "hockey man shirt", which says : “Kaspar – hockey man” and “mommy – goalie”. Don’t even try to convince me that GAP spells gap and not “Kaspar – hockey man” and “mommy – goalie”!

guilt

Guilt. It’s a powerful thing. Guilt is what got me back into doing the blog. Guilt keeps me recycling. Guilt makes me get out and shovel the sidewalk in the morning. It keeps my kitchen floor clean. It even gives me more time with kids… and I’m sure I could go on.

After having one kid and trying your best to do things the right way (by my self imposed standards, of course) I find myself feeling guilty more and more often these days. I just cannot manage things the same way I did, when my first was a couple of months old. I feel guilty about not taking as many pictures of Stella as I did with Kaspar. I feel guilty about not spending as much time talking to her. I feel guilty about not using washable diapers the same way I did when Kaspar was born. And even though it’s probably a very legitimate response to having two kids, even legitimate guilt (if I may put it that way), I’m well aware that no matter how hard I try I will never be the same for the both of them. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I just cannot cope with two the same way I did with one. But maybe, just maybe… it’s the way the world works. Whatever the reason, it does not make me feel less guilty. So, I’m beginning to realize that feeling guilty is probably going to be a part of my daily routine, no matter ho hard I try. I have to make sure I don’t let it run my life.

I’ve often wondered how my mother did it. She had three kids and very little help. But when I ask about it she always has a very wise response. Such as “ I only had two rooms to take care of, not an entire house!” or “My three kids over the course of fifteen years had less toys then your first in his first year of life!” or my favourite “When you have to do it, you have to do it. That’s all there is to it.” (It does not rhyme in Latvian, unfortunately.) Then there are also the ones I have a hard time swallowing myself - “You were never that spoiled!” or “You helped me clean and cook as soon as you could walk!” and “I didn’t need to teach you to read, you absorbed it all on your own.” and “Of course you could spell by the time you turned three… I still have a card to prove it!” I have a hard time believing some of it, since I never turned out to be some sort of a child genius, but she does insist that she’s not making it up. And being a genius in early childhood does not mean I’m a genius at being a mother myself. Quite the opposite, in fact.

But… back to guilt and things I feel guilty about - My house is never as clean as I’d like it to be. The laundry is never done, because there is always more in the basket. There could always be more time for the kids. And more time trying to educate them in the ways of this life. The washable diapers are never used as much as I’d like them to be used. More often then not I forget to bring a reusable bag to the grocery store and there are way too many things that never get sorted properly for the recycling bin. I go for days at a time not answering my emails. I conveniently forget to mail 80% of my Christmas cards. I don’t floss as often as I’d like and I eat way to much sugar and drink way too much coffee. I don’t read as many books as I’d like. Oh, let me correct myself… I don’t read at all these days. But it really all comes down to one thing - there is never enough hours in the day to do it all.

So in the end it’s all about a good balance, because building another snowman on a snowy day is way more important then having a clean floor in the kitchen, or all the laundry done, is it not? My two year old understands that, but I on the other hand have a hard time dealing with my own guilt. Go figure~!