here be @ewiller's tweets...Someone apparently found my blog by searching for…
CREEPY PARENTS WHO MAKE THEIR KIDS WEAR DIAPERS
Although, yes, I would prefer it if children emerged from the womb toilet trained, I am not entirely sure what this searchers’ problem would be.
The mysteries of the [web] universe.
A normal Friday involves me being at home with just Callum (as Oliver is at daycare), lots of daytime television filling up the quiet in the house (I swear, I don’t watch a lot of it, I just need to have it on for noise), a shower, getting dressed, cleaning up from Thursday (always a messy day), and possibly going out food shopping or general errand running. Today, I didn’t have any plans to leave the house. (Really for the best as I don’t seem to be able to leave the house without spending A LOT of money that I don’t have).
So the day started off not very normal. I was changing Callum’s diaper when the side door doorbell rang. Assuming it was a delivery person or something, I grabbed him, sans diaper and pulled his sleepsuit over his nether regions for modesty. I ran to the door, clutching Callum and clad in very unattractive PJ’s, to find 3 burly firefighters, in full firefighting gear, waiting for me.
They informed me that a house around the corner had a gas leak and they needed to check to see if they could get a reading in our house, particularly near the furnace. So I had to lead them through possibly the most filthy and cluttered house possible, in nasty pajamas, feeling like an ass. Anyway, no reading, and they were on their way with a warning that if it was bad, they’d be back to tell me to leave the house. They never came back.
As I wasn’t planning on going anywhere in the car, I decided around 2pm that I would take Callum and the dog for a walk to get the post. Taking Piper for a walk really isn’t that fun. She never learned not to pull on the lead mostly because we were too lazy/busy to take her to obedience classes. But after a few times of me really yanking her back on her collar, she seemed to be walking the leash pretty well, so I decided after we got the mail that we’d keep walking around the block because definitely both her and I could use the exercise.
All was going well. The sunshine was warm, the breeze was cool. I realized that we aren’t the only house in the neighbourhood overrun with dandelions, thus alleviating some of my domestic shame. We listened to the whir and hum of various machines that different neighbours had in their yards – either their gardeners or other home improvement project workers those damn rich bastards. Callum was quiet and observant. Piper was walking nicely.
Then, merely 2 houses before ours, a jet black lab-type dog started barking and running up and down the fence around its’ property and Piper was going nuts. She and this dog like to bark at each other from their respective properties, but I’d never had the occasion to meet it on a walk before. As it’s Piper, what she really wants is to play with it and sniff its butt, but this dog really just wanted to have a good bark. Which caused Piper to jump and pace. However, the problem was that I had to hang on to the leash and the stroller at the same time, and if I continued, Piper was going to pull Callum over.
So I stood at the side of the road, pushchair brakes on, and wondered what the hell I was going to do, sure that I would be unable to get them both home. At that moment, a car driving by stopped, after the driver smiled at me, and a woman emerged offering help. She wanted to take Piper, but I told her she’d probably pull her over, and I asked if she wouldn’t mind pushing Callum down the street. She looked between 40-50 years old, blonde, in very expensive ‘casual’ designer denim, and looked as if she might have had some good plastic surgery done. This is the kind of messed up neighbourhood we live in – people have plastic surgery and gardeners. And we have a lawn full of dog poop and dandelions, and too many bills to pay.
We don’t get to talk to our neighbours too often because we don’t really live in a proper neighbourhood – properties here are around a couple of acres each, and there are no sidewalks – it’s not like you are going to pass someone on the street normally, or say hello as you take out your garbage. So I was really happy that she stopped and helped me, and even introduced herself as a neighbour from farther up the street.
Community is important (hell, I’ve written papers on that topic in university) and I hope that as we continue to live here, we’ll be able to feel more a part of this town than we do right now. Even if we are the poor (relatively) relations.
Alright, now back to my regularly scheduled glass of ice water and dinner prep and laundry sorting.
…by Suburban Mum.
10 things I’ve thought today
(also possibly said some things out loud because if I don’t talk to myself, I may end up speaking to no one who can talk back to me – except in barks, meows or goo goo ga ga)
I’m not tagging anyone as I don’t know who the hell is reading this drivel. And I’m too pissed off at myself for not getting out of the house early enough this morning to purchase a Wii Fit. DAMN it.
I wish I had taken more video of Oliver as a baby.
(Warning – it’s a long one, purely for my own indulgence and good record keeping)
[googlevideo=http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3412400572131538076&hl=en]
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A dear friend of mine has asked for some webby publicity for a team that she plays on. She, who I have known for half my life, lives too far away in Victoria, British Columbia, but maybe one day I will be able to watch her play in a match – of roller derby. Yep, she’s about the hottest and baddest mama I know (she has two boys, too). Her team is called Eves of Destruction. I wonder what kind of Google searches will bring people here, now. (Hey, if you are here looking for totally hawt mamas doing roller derby, you’ve come to completely the wrong place, couldn’t be more wrong – go here instead!)
Callum is 6 months old today. I was a little worried in the last few weeks that he’s not really been progressing as far as developmental milestones go. I’m not talking about expecting him to be crawling and talking and whatever by now. I’m going by a fairly rudimentary assessment that the government here uses, that if your children don’t reach the basic milestones, they will suggest that you see a health care provider. But since recovering from his latest cold/virus/whatever, he’s really playing catch-up. Suddenly he’s reaching out for faces, using all kinds of different muscles in his body, and enjoying his food more and more. He really likes munching on these teething biscuits I bought, and I sort of shovel some food in between chews at lunchtime.
His appetite has increased again (had decreased a lot while sick) and he just seems to have come on a lot in the last few days. He’s trying SO hard to roll over but he just can’t seem to get it yet. I think it will come soon, though. He’s also meant to be responding to his own name and understanding some basic words, apparently. I think he probably thinks his name is Oliver since I tend to yell it rather often. Oh well.
This week I started putting him to bed in his own room in his crib at the same time as Oliver, which is a nice change. And he seems to be able to go through (after I give him a dream feed at around 10pm) until 5 or 6 when he fusses a bit and then I get him back to sleep until around 7:30 or 8. This means he’s sleeping less during the day and sort of not really on a routine yet, but we’ll sort that out. Having my evenings back makes a nice change.
I almost forgot – the best things about Callum? He’s crazy ticklish. Like giggles his head off when we change his clothes or wash his neck. And the loud man-grunt he makes when filling his nappy is priceless.
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Mother’s Day here this weekend, and we’ve got a lot planned. I found some Devon clotted cream at a local supermarket, and based on the fact that my mother is from Devon and enjoys scones with it, I thought I’d make her a nice tea on Saturday. That has spawned some other plans as well; basically now my entire family is coming over, my mother and I will take the kids to a local ‘springfest’ event while my dad, brother and Mark build a dog run, and I’ll make everyone lunch that will include said scones and cream. On Sunday, Mark invited a bunch of work colleagues in town from New Zealand over for a BBQ. I’m not really sure we should be barbecuing as I am sure that Kiwis are much better at handling meat + fire than Brits/Canucks, so we’ll see how it goes. The group includes two little girls so Oliver should have some fun sharing toys.
Mark is often pretty useless with gifts, but last year he got me a nice orchid for Mother’s Day from Oliver and I’ve actually managed to keep the thing alive for a whole year. And it looks like it’s going to bloom again imminently. I would think that was symbolic except I don’t really believe in that stuff. I expect some lovely handmade stuff to come home from daycare with Oliver today.
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There’s been a lot of press about this thing called mommy blogging lately. I’m not going to get into the issue of even calling it mommy blogging – what, because I have kids, my entirety identity is ‘mommy’? Or mummy in my case. This is more like ‘my boring life’ blogging, round here. But anyway, I digress.
First, it was a rather negative Globe and Mail article, that my father actually first sent me the link to. Not sure if he thinks I’m pimping his grandchildren or what, but the article and the comments are a bit much.
Then on the Today Show in the States, Kathie Lee Gifford interview Heather from Dooce, and showed a video of some other famous bloggers who make a living from their writing. And basically, the whole tone was set by Kathie Lee ‘not understanding’ computers and feeling uncomfortable with people talking about their children on the internet. Lots of other posters have pointed out how much she has readily put her own children in the public eye, so forget that.
I guess what I am trying to say here is that, yes, Oliver and Callum might not be very happy with this public record of their lives one day, despite the fact my readership is tiny. Yes, it does bother me a little that someone linked here today by searching for Callum’s name and I don’t know who they are (but that’s a limitation of this blog that I can’t add proper analytics like I could on the other blog; WordPress doesn’t tell me IP addresses or locations of visitors).
However, I think that if my parents had kept a similar record, I would be slightly embarrassed but also totally interested in finding out what they felt, what they did when I was growing up. I can sort of relate it to an annual Christmas letter my mother sent out. I wanted to know what she was saying about me to everyone on her mailing list, almost so I could edit it, but it would be really cool to go back and read the old updates. Maybe that’s part of the answer – this can become their story, when they are old enough to contribute, and not just my perspective. The world is a completely different place than when I was growing up – everyone’s lives are so much more public, not just those who have little tiny spaces on the internet to write.
The more important thing is that mommy blogging, or whatever you want to call it, brings me a sense of community. This is really about me! Tells me stories that I want to hear, like how difficult it is to juggle all of this, or some hilarious toddler talk. Tells me stories that are difficult to hear, about loss, or infertility, or family issues. Overall, lets me know I am not alone in this simultaneously challenging, mundane and joyous journey. And I am thinking of the mothers on my blog roll in particular this weekend, and thanking them for their writing, for sharing their journey. Forget the press.
So, on a tip from Karla, I packed up items from a box in the basement labeled ‘evil plastic’ and headed off to Zellers. However, my nearest Zellers seems to have realized that some of us are trying to return baby bottles bought a while ago (as much as 6 years, according to the customer service lady), and they have changed their policy – will only take bottles with a ’7′ or ‘PC’ stamped on them. Well, Avent bottles often don’t have that on them. So I left, disappointed, but whatever. I think other people have had more success with this even today, so it might just be this particular Zellers that is being uptight. I should have known about this before – they’ve been accepting returns for a few weeks now. I just missed it.
I then went to a major children’s retailer that shall remain nameless, since I just sort of scammed them. Well, not really. What I did was give them several Avent bottles and two Playtex bottles. And they gave me $49.02 in store credit. Okay, so I actually purchased those Avent bottles in England, and the teats at Shopper’s Drug Mart, and the Playtex bottles were free samples from Nestle. So it was sort of not really that fair of me to expect to get store credit for them. But they never asked for a receipt or any proof of purchase. They wouldn’t take my sterilizer, though (damn). One website has a forum where people are complaining that our economy is already going downhill enough, so why should I expect to get money for something bought over two years ago (and in my case, in a different country!)? You know what? I have already given ENOUGH of my hard earned money to this retailer, and now I will end up giving them more, as the store credit will likely be used to buy a new car seat, so I don’t feel that bad. I feel great! They are getting more of my business. It’s a win-win.
I also called Avent’s customer service line this week; they are sending me two free sippy cups and a $20 rebate form. Score, score and score. Thanks to the Canadian government for making this possible. I don’t often have reason to thank Stephen Harper, so it’s a novelty. Will it all make up for the fact that both my sons were exposed to potential hormone disrupters for a significant amount of time??? I guess we’ll find out when they are older.
I’ve recently had lots of blog traffic as a result of talking about the baby bottles. And I’ve been piping up when in different stores when I’ve heard parents asking questions and heard retailers not exactly giving the right answer. So, once more (with feeling) – Avent teats/nipples/whatever DO fit Born Free plastic bottles. If you want to keep using them. If your kid is used to them (like mine). Now I’ve used the Born Free bottles for a few weeks, I do quite like them. I like the shape of them; they are comfortable to hold. They are easy to clean, with their own brand sponge brush. They sometimes leak a little, but not too much. They are way too expensive, but at least we’ve made up for that with all this compensation.
Okay, end of bottle talk.
I’m participating in a virtual baby shower, featured on a new read for me, Better than a Playdate. Several bloggers are making the move from one kid to two, and participants are meant to provide advice/assvice on this transition.
As I’m still figuring this one out, with a 2.5 year old and an almost 6 month old, I look forward to reading the other entries. But I’ll provide my own coping tactics:
Many of these things were suggested to me by my friends and readers when I pleaded for help when I first went from one to two children, and so I thank them, and pass this assvice on to you.
I have found this a difficult transition, personally, but obviously other people are naturals at it, or everyone would be only children. As everyone else loves to tell me, it’s going to get better! Good luck.
What I should do, tomorrow, is walk out the door with a smile and a ‘see you tomorrow, have fun!’.
Instead, I make pages of notes and suggestions. A routine with details of every half hour that I won’t be here (along with the idea that routines are flexible, this is merely an idea of how things normally go, I’m not a complete routine nazi).
I will make sure the diaper bag is full of necessities, the bottles are cleaned, the water is boiled, the high chair and booster seat are clean, the fridge is stocked with milk and ham, the pantry has crackers and cookies, the toys are organized, the clean clothes are sorted, the double stroller is at the ready, Callum’s car seat is transferred to Mark’s car, and that my cell phone is charged.
Never mind leaving for 24-28 hours like I am tomorrow morning, I basically do this just to leave the house for 2 hours. And yet, when Mark goes to work or on a business trip, he leaves with a ‘have a nice day’.
Am I the only sucker out there? Should I have just left them to fend for themselves? I mean really, how much damage could be done in a day if I just let them figure things out as they go?
Instead, I attempt to make things easier for everyone, to reduce the stress and the tears, and my own anxieties. Is life actually easier when I make it into a military operation? I’m still figuring that one out.
