Kota, our "puppy", showed us just how smart he really is. While Corey was on holidays he made Kota a dog run, and he did a pretty good job. Kota was very happy to finally be somewhat free and not tied to our apple tree, but tonight he figured out how to escape.
I was bathing the girls when Tasha our other dog started barking like crazy at the front door. Corey was playing Xbox in the living room yelling at Tasha to stop barking. When she didn't listen he got up to see what the commotion was, and when he sees Kota at the front door he asks me, "How did Kota get out?"
"Um, I don't know," I answer as I'm elbow deep in shampoo and bubbles calmly trying to wash Elise's hair as she is screaming in my ear that she "NO WANT TO HAVE BATH!"
He goes outside to assess the situation, puts Kota back in and right in front of Corey Kota escapes again, under the chain link fence, he pushed himself to freedom. Corey grabs some wire to put across the bottom of the entire length of the fence. It took him about a half hour to do this. Once he finished he looks at Kota and says, "There! Let's see you get out of that! HA!"
Corey comes back inside just about to sit down and start playing again, when Kota makes another appearance in the backyard OUT of his run.
"Uh, Honey! Kota's out!"
"What? How the......?"
Out he goes again, more assessing, some head scratching, some thinking. I made the suggestion to grab the pegs from the trailer that we use to hold the awning in place, to hook the fence down. He agrees that that just might work. So he finds them and fastens them in. We lure Kota back into the run.
"NOW, let's see you get out of that!"
Kota sits and waits for us to go back in, I walk to the window and boom, out he goes AGAIN!
"Uh, Honey! He got out again!"
"Geez...(bleep, bleep, bleep) dog!"
Now Corey grabs a board and two big bricks from our fire pit. Puts it in place with meaning, and with a kick at the ground and a point of his finger he says, "THERE, now let's see you get out of THAT! HUMPH!" and off he walks into the house.
I sit on the deck and watch. Kota moves the brick out of way with one flick of his paw, manoeuvres his head over the board and under the fence. Now this took a little more doing on his part but he got out no problem.
"HONEY! He's getting oooouuuuutttt!" No answer.
"COREY! He's out now!"
"NO he's not, WHATEVER!" he answers as he thinks I'm joking, well hopes that I'm joking.
"YES! YES he is!"
Jokes over, now he's mad, not finding the humour in it as I still do! It's hard to keep my facial expressions under wraps and laughing at that moment would not have been a good idea, so I chose to go inside, grinning from ear to ear. He gets him back in, moves the brick to the outside of the run, this time doesn't say a word to Kota and walks back into the house. Muttering some sweet nothings, I'm sure, under his breath.
Finally Kota is secure in the run, but is in the process of moving his body across the fence to find out if he can get out somewhere else, so we are crossing our fingers that he won't figure out that the rest of the fence is just as flexible. It's only a matter of time though.
And so Kota I take back all the times I called you a dumb dog, cause clearly you are pretty smart!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Big City Driving
I clearly have been moulded into the small town way of life, laid back, voluntarily waving at people I don't know, no traffic to fight and no road rage to deal with. Today I had to drive through the city to take Emma to her annual check-up in St. Albert. And every year I feel more and more like small town folk. I've never liked big crowds or lots of traffic but it seems as though the city is not getting any smaller and drivers are not getting any nicer. Despite all the campaigns out there for safe driving it seems they are making an opposite reaction in the big city.
Today I learned that keeping a cars length between me and the car in front of me is only an invitation to others to cut in front of me, and not keeping a safe distance. I also learned that stopping abruptly trying to avoid being t-boned by a cab driver, will cause the cab driver to also stop abruptly but proceed to make obscene gestures and yell at you because you avoided an accident and possibly death that he would have caused. He also taught my 6 year old some words that caused her to ask what they mean, and honestly I really couldn't give her the proper definition other than...(never mind, it's a bad word do not repeat it!).
I am not a slow highway driver, I do speed but not enough to warrant a ticket, but in the city I tend to stick to the limits because of all the cameras and radar traps, I just don't want to pay the fines. And this especially goes for construction zones! But the words SPEED FINES DOUBLE mean nothing to city drivers, and quite frankly if you adhere to the limits be prepared for major road rage. I would like to thank the city driver for schooling me today in the construction zone. I sure learned my lesson when you came up on my rear end so fast and then swerved around to cut me off and slam on your brakes. That was just awesome, my kids won't have seat belt burn over that one at all. I'm sorry I didn't bet the memo that 95 was the new speed limit for construction zones. The workers must be so relieved that we can go faster so that they will be splattered all over the road instead of just in one spot.
Granted I am a small town person and have been for 4 years now. We don't have to fight traffic and we don't even have to wait for a traffic light! The only things we wait for are trains, crosswalks and the seniors in town when they make a right or a left turn. At first this used to bother me, and now I welcome it. But to brush up on my city driving maybe I'll practice some of the gestures in town and see what kind of reaction I'll get! Or I'll just take some anti-anxiety medication for each drive into the city.
Today I learned that keeping a cars length between me and the car in front of me is only an invitation to others to cut in front of me, and not keeping a safe distance. I also learned that stopping abruptly trying to avoid being t-boned by a cab driver, will cause the cab driver to also stop abruptly but proceed to make obscene gestures and yell at you because you avoided an accident and possibly death that he would have caused. He also taught my 6 year old some words that caused her to ask what they mean, and honestly I really couldn't give her the proper definition other than...(never mind, it's a bad word do not repeat it!).
I am not a slow highway driver, I do speed but not enough to warrant a ticket, but in the city I tend to stick to the limits because of all the cameras and radar traps, I just don't want to pay the fines. And this especially goes for construction zones! But the words SPEED FINES DOUBLE mean nothing to city drivers, and quite frankly if you adhere to the limits be prepared for major road rage. I would like to thank the city driver for schooling me today in the construction zone. I sure learned my lesson when you came up on my rear end so fast and then swerved around to cut me off and slam on your brakes. That was just awesome, my kids won't have seat belt burn over that one at all. I'm sorry I didn't bet the memo that 95 was the new speed limit for construction zones. The workers must be so relieved that we can go faster so that they will be splattered all over the road instead of just in one spot.
Granted I am a small town person and have been for 4 years now. We don't have to fight traffic and we don't even have to wait for a traffic light! The only things we wait for are trains, crosswalks and the seniors in town when they make a right or a left turn. At first this used to bother me, and now I welcome it. But to brush up on my city driving maybe I'll practice some of the gestures in town and see what kind of reaction I'll get! Or I'll just take some anti-anxiety medication for each drive into the city.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Is It PMS? Or is it really ME?
I'm going to open right up here and discuss my flaws that I have come to realize I actually have during that great time the medical world has dubbed PMS. For me, there is only about a week out of every month that I feel somewhat "normal" and the other three weeks I will blame on my cycle. I could just chalked it up to the three weeks being my actual self since it consumes more of my time, but then I would just look and sound like a bitch, and well if you don't live with me, then I'm not, I'm quite pleasant to be around! (or at least that's what I like to think!)
The physical pain of PMS isn't really my issue, it's my mood swings and hormones that I try to keep under wraps. Since I've been in my 30's I've noticed that these trips down the pre-menstrual highway have become a lot more bumpy and unpredictable, almost like a train derailment. You know things are bad when the simple sound of breathing makes me want to turn my head and hiss at the person that is near me making the annoying sound they must do to stay alive! Don't get me wrong, if they are across the room, I'm good but if they are sitting beside me or behind me it's like nails on a chalkboard. I know this is bad and it's even worse that I can't vocalize my problem! I would love to say, "Must you breathe so loud, I'm trying to write a very important blog entry here!" But I'm grateful that I haven't passed the point of no return just yet and made the mistake of vocalizing what I'm thinking. I know that my time will come though when I hit the journey of menopause, because by that point I really won't care what I sound like!
Another one of my not so favourite sounds is chewing. I'm not talking about rude chewing either, because then I could say something. Nope for me it's just normal chewing of the food with a closed mouth, it could be crunchy food, soft food, or even soup! For some reason the sound is amplified like I'm sitting in the front row of a Marilyn Manson concert. I have been so annoyed sometimes that I have removed myself from the table and went to eat in another room! That's right I said it for all to see!
I am an emotional person by nature, but when the hormones are turned up on high I am all over the map. Laughing one minute, crying a half second later, then angry, and back to laughing. Commercials are the worst for that trigger! No word of a lie, one time there were a sequence of commercials that made me do this in a very short time span. The DQ commercial for the flame thrower burger where the dude takes a bite then goes to talk and flames shoot out of his mouth; makes me laugh every time, then the CIBC commercial where the dad is giving his daughter away at her wedding and gives her a big fat cheque too; leaves me bawling, then the Always commercial that ends in "have a happy period", yup ANGER; then the Cadbury commercial with the clucking bunny, total laughter! If that's not an emotional roller coaster, I don't know what is! And my poor family that had to witness that, I'm sure they were searching for the Midol for me, but I happened to be out of it that day.
My vocabulary becomes very limited as well. My husband will lovingly ask, "What's your problem?" and I lovingly answer with the stink eye, "NOTHING." To which he replies, "Oh." He'll try again, and ask, "So, how was your day?" And then I don't try and say with a hiss, "FINE." Then you see the light bulb go off in his head and he knows what time of month it is, and quietly moves on. The kids ask, "What's for dinner Mommy?" I answer, "NOTHING!" "Why?" they ask scared that really aren't going to eat for the next few weeks. "Because the only thing Mommy wants to see, smell and consume right now is chocolate, and that is not good for YOU, so......you get nothing!" Emma has been in the family longer than Elise so she gets it already, just walk away and Mommy will stop. But Elise still has a few years before she gets it, and will continue on the quest of" what's for dinner?"
Eventually they get fed, and we sit at the table like a family and talk about our day. I have" nothing" to say because it was" fine", and the sound of them breathing and chewing at the same time causes me to explode internally or like I said before leave the room entirely. Sometimes family dinners are not the way to go in our house, as the Swanson Frozen dinner people claim they do. They may keep my kids out of trouble and off of drugs later on in life, but for now, in the Jack household, they are giving them more ammo for their weekly therapy sessions. I do hope they don't do drugs, but if they do, I hope I find them, and then maybe Mommy will be easier to live with!
The physical pain of PMS isn't really my issue, it's my mood swings and hormones that I try to keep under wraps. Since I've been in my 30's I've noticed that these trips down the pre-menstrual highway have become a lot more bumpy and unpredictable, almost like a train derailment. You know things are bad when the simple sound of breathing makes me want to turn my head and hiss at the person that is near me making the annoying sound they must do to stay alive! Don't get me wrong, if they are across the room, I'm good but if they are sitting beside me or behind me it's like nails on a chalkboard. I know this is bad and it's even worse that I can't vocalize my problem! I would love to say, "Must you breathe so loud, I'm trying to write a very important blog entry here!" But I'm grateful that I haven't passed the point of no return just yet and made the mistake of vocalizing what I'm thinking. I know that my time will come though when I hit the journey of menopause, because by that point I really won't care what I sound like!
Another one of my not so favourite sounds is chewing. I'm not talking about rude chewing either, because then I could say something. Nope for me it's just normal chewing of the food with a closed mouth, it could be crunchy food, soft food, or even soup! For some reason the sound is amplified like I'm sitting in the front row of a Marilyn Manson concert. I have been so annoyed sometimes that I have removed myself from the table and went to eat in another room! That's right I said it for all to see!
I am an emotional person by nature, but when the hormones are turned up on high I am all over the map. Laughing one minute, crying a half second later, then angry, and back to laughing. Commercials are the worst for that trigger! No word of a lie, one time there were a sequence of commercials that made me do this in a very short time span. The DQ commercial for the flame thrower burger where the dude takes a bite then goes to talk and flames shoot out of his mouth; makes me laugh every time, then the CIBC commercial where the dad is giving his daughter away at her wedding and gives her a big fat cheque too; leaves me bawling, then the Always commercial that ends in "have a happy period", yup ANGER; then the Cadbury commercial with the clucking bunny, total laughter! If that's not an emotional roller coaster, I don't know what is! And my poor family that had to witness that, I'm sure they were searching for the Midol for me, but I happened to be out of it that day.
My vocabulary becomes very limited as well. My husband will lovingly ask, "What's your problem?" and I lovingly answer with the stink eye, "NOTHING." To which he replies, "Oh." He'll try again, and ask, "So, how was your day?" And then I don't try and say with a hiss, "FINE." Then you see the light bulb go off in his head and he knows what time of month it is, and quietly moves on. The kids ask, "What's for dinner Mommy?" I answer, "NOTHING!" "Why?" they ask scared that really aren't going to eat for the next few weeks. "Because the only thing Mommy wants to see, smell and consume right now is chocolate, and that is not good for YOU, so......you get nothing!" Emma has been in the family longer than Elise so she gets it already, just walk away and Mommy will stop. But Elise still has a few years before she gets it, and will continue on the quest of" what's for dinner?"
Eventually they get fed, and we sit at the table like a family and talk about our day. I have" nothing" to say because it was" fine", and the sound of them breathing and chewing at the same time causes me to explode internally or like I said before leave the room entirely. Sometimes family dinners are not the way to go in our house, as the Swanson Frozen dinner people claim they do. They may keep my kids out of trouble and off of drugs later on in life, but for now, in the Jack household, they are giving them more ammo for their weekly therapy sessions. I do hope they don't do drugs, but if they do, I hope I find them, and then maybe Mommy will be easier to live with!
Monday, June 28, 2010
Do You Work?
Recently I was asked by a woman if I worked. I could end the blog here and you could probably fill in the blanks as to how I handled this question, but seeing how I "don't work", I have the time to let you know exactly how it went down.
I was grocery shopping in the middle of the week, in the middle of the day with both girls in tow. One screaming that she wanted to walk and not be in the cart, the other "helping" me shop by loading the cart with all the "healthy" food she could find. Not really a moment where I felt like chit chatting with strangers and not a good moment to be asked questions by the Wal-Mart credit card person who was trying to get me to fill out the application as she followed me down each aisle. At first I politely ignored her, but she was a persistent little bugger and decided that she would be" helpful" by asking questions as I shopped and she would fill out the application for me.
"What is your name?"
"Mommy"
"Oh, no your legal name."
"Mommy."
"Okay, what is your date of birth?"
"I can't remember it was so long ago."
"Hmmm....okay well, do you work? What is your occupation?"
And that is when I could no longer play nice.......it got ugly.....and fast.
"Yes as a matter of fact I do, and you are interrupting me as I do it! My occupation is, Mommy as I stated in my name. Imagine that, my name and my occupation are the same damn word! I work from 6:30 am until 10:00 pm every single day including holidays. Holidays require a double shift, and if someone is sick I'm pulling an all nighter! I do dishes, laundry, clean bathrooms and toilets, make meals, vacuum, kiss the boo boos away, scare the monsters back to where they came from, and wake up the next day to do it all over again. My income is less than you make here, but what I lack in income I am rewarded in love and hugs from these two right in front of you. A little word of advice my dear would be that you rephrase your question to Do you work OUTSIDE the home. You just may get a better response, and when someone ignores you that means they aren't interested in your credit card!"
"Right.....sorry about that....."
I am not going to start a war over who is more overworked a working outside the home mom or a stay at home mom, I believe we are equal in our endeavours. I'm sure both kinds of moms are a little envious of the other, one would like to be home more and the other would like to get out more. But my days get just as busy as the next moms and they all sometimes mesh together. The credit card lady caught me on a really stressful busy day and I'm sure I could have handled her differently. But I did not, yes she was just doing her job but so was I. My job requires me to be an annoyance to my family, her job requires her to be an annoyance to the public. Either way we were both annoying to each other.
I was grocery shopping in the middle of the week, in the middle of the day with both girls in tow. One screaming that she wanted to walk and not be in the cart, the other "helping" me shop by loading the cart with all the "healthy" food she could find. Not really a moment where I felt like chit chatting with strangers and not a good moment to be asked questions by the Wal-Mart credit card person who was trying to get me to fill out the application as she followed me down each aisle. At first I politely ignored her, but she was a persistent little bugger and decided that she would be" helpful" by asking questions as I shopped and she would fill out the application for me.
"What is your name?"
"Mommy"
"Oh, no your legal name."
"Mommy."
"Okay, what is your date of birth?"
"I can't remember it was so long ago."
"Hmmm....okay well, do you work? What is your occupation?"
And that is when I could no longer play nice.......it got ugly.....and fast.
"Yes as a matter of fact I do, and you are interrupting me as I do it! My occupation is, Mommy as I stated in my name. Imagine that, my name and my occupation are the same damn word! I work from 6:30 am until 10:00 pm every single day including holidays. Holidays require a double shift, and if someone is sick I'm pulling an all nighter! I do dishes, laundry, clean bathrooms and toilets, make meals, vacuum, kiss the boo boos away, scare the monsters back to where they came from, and wake up the next day to do it all over again. My income is less than you make here, but what I lack in income I am rewarded in love and hugs from these two right in front of you. A little word of advice my dear would be that you rephrase your question to Do you work OUTSIDE the home. You just may get a better response, and when someone ignores you that means they aren't interested in your credit card!"
"Right.....sorry about that....."
I am not going to start a war over who is more overworked a working outside the home mom or a stay at home mom, I believe we are equal in our endeavours. I'm sure both kinds of moms are a little envious of the other, one would like to be home more and the other would like to get out more. But my days get just as busy as the next moms and they all sometimes mesh together. The credit card lady caught me on a really stressful busy day and I'm sure I could have handled her differently. But I did not, yes she was just doing her job but so was I. My job requires me to be an annoyance to my family, her job requires her to be an annoyance to the public. Either way we were both annoying to each other.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
My Army
Something we can all relate to in our lives is some form of loss or tragedy, no one wants to experience it, but at some point we all have to. That is the common denominator, how we deal with or work through that loss is entirely up to us. We cannot control our future, but we can control our actions. We chose our own path; is it one of further destruction or one that we can learn from? The harder road is the one we take where we actually have learned from. It takes more work on our parts, more heartache in some cases but in the end the most rewarding. For some it is the road less travelled.
Choosing to be the victim, for me, seems to be more work. You smile less, you laugh less, you are not your true self. You lose yourself , and ultimately lose out on life. We all deal with things in a different way, some take longer than others to move on, that in itself is neither right, nor is it wrong. What is wrong is when you become a "toxic" energy and in turn start to take others down with you. Others that were there in the beginning to help dust yourself off, and help you take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other and move forward from the past. Those that helped comfort and support, lend an ear, give a hug and wipe the tears. Those that try to show you that you are stronger than what has happened, you, as a person, are stronger than the situation or the other person that hurt you. I believe that we all are blessed with these kind of people in our lives, whether we know it or not, there is someone there that wants to help and wants to see you help yourself.
I truly am blessed with an army of people from family to friends, and friends that are family. I feel that some I have taken for granted, though not on purpose, just could have shown a better appreciation for the role they play in my life and my family's life. I find that I have guarded my heart to new relationships as I'm sure we all have for obvious reasons. I am the one to push away or step back, and I am the one to just trust the future.
As tough as I try to portray myself, I really am not hard as nails. With an outpouring of love and support from my true friends and family, today I woke up with the sun shining through my window, trees moving freely in the wind, and the birds singing their songs welcoming a new day. I decided that yes, it is a new day, the past is the past, and there is always a tomorrow. I learned this week that there are two fantastic women willing to get to know me and wanting the best for me. As I do for them, and that ultimately I am thankful for what has happened, because from a bad situation and toxic relationship sprouted two more soldiers in my army. I look forward to good times, good conversation, much laughter and a positive outlook for things that have happened and things that are to come our way.
I know I do not say thank-you enough to my circle of family and friends for their constant love and support, so I say it now. Thanks for backing me, lifting me up and just loving me for me through the good times and the not so good times. Without all of you I would not have the great life that that I live.
Choosing to be the victim, for me, seems to be more work. You smile less, you laugh less, you are not your true self. You lose yourself , and ultimately lose out on life. We all deal with things in a different way, some take longer than others to move on, that in itself is neither right, nor is it wrong. What is wrong is when you become a "toxic" energy and in turn start to take others down with you. Others that were there in the beginning to help dust yourself off, and help you take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other and move forward from the past. Those that helped comfort and support, lend an ear, give a hug and wipe the tears. Those that try to show you that you are stronger than what has happened, you, as a person, are stronger than the situation or the other person that hurt you. I believe that we all are blessed with these kind of people in our lives, whether we know it or not, there is someone there that wants to help and wants to see you help yourself.
I truly am blessed with an army of people from family to friends, and friends that are family. I feel that some I have taken for granted, though not on purpose, just could have shown a better appreciation for the role they play in my life and my family's life. I find that I have guarded my heart to new relationships as I'm sure we all have for obvious reasons. I am the one to push away or step back, and I am the one to just trust the future.
As tough as I try to portray myself, I really am not hard as nails. With an outpouring of love and support from my true friends and family, today I woke up with the sun shining through my window, trees moving freely in the wind, and the birds singing their songs welcoming a new day. I decided that yes, it is a new day, the past is the past, and there is always a tomorrow. I learned this week that there are two fantastic women willing to get to know me and wanting the best for me. As I do for them, and that ultimately I am thankful for what has happened, because from a bad situation and toxic relationship sprouted two more soldiers in my army. I look forward to good times, good conversation, much laughter and a positive outlook for things that have happened and things that are to come our way.
I know I do not say thank-you enough to my circle of family and friends for their constant love and support, so I say it now. Thanks for backing me, lifting me up and just loving me for me through the good times and the not so good times. Without all of you I would not have the great life that that I live.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
My Childbirth Truths
I've been thinking about the birth of my girls, and yes, two of the best days of my life so far, goes without saying, but also two of the strangest days of my life. Since I was a little girl I KNEW I wanted to be a mom, I just didn't know exactly how it would feel to deliver them. You can read all about pregnancy /childbirth and typically what to expect, but until you have gone through it, you will never truly know.
I never had the pleasure of going into labour "naturally", both times I had the opportunity to have my body pumped with synthetic hormones to trick my girls into thinking that it was time to come out. There is this gel that was used for Emma, that was stuck up my unit, which was to make the uterus go into contractions. We waited for many hours for this action to take place and all that happened down there was an annoying sensation that my ovaries were on fire, and that I wanted to stick ice cubes up there to turn down the heat. Next came the hormones pumped through my veins. That brought on more action, and I was told do walk around the halls to help move things along.
With your first baby, things tend to be slower in the delivery department, your body hasn't done it before, it knows that it has to, but isn't too sure which way to shoot the baby out. There are many" techniques" that the nurses will give you to help open up your cervix and get it to dilate to the winning number of 10 cm. I did laps around the hospital, sat on an exercise ball and rolled around the room, nothing was making Emma come out any faster. So more hormones were given. That brought on contractions hard and fast, but still I would not dilate. I was in a lot of pain, but could not get the ever loving epidural until I was in the right "window" of opportunity. So instead they gave me "laughing gas". It made me laugh alright, at the idea that this stuff would take the "edge" off. It was making my visitors high more so than myself.
Finally I was ready for the epidural, (and if you are a woman that did this without this form of heaven -on- earth, you are my hero, a little on the Extreme Sports side, but still, my hero!), they brought the forms in for me to sign so I wouldn't try and sue them if the dude slipped and put me in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I said," I promise I won't sue you, you are like my new best friend if you can make me comfortable." The best part was being told to hold still between contractions, (uh, right, I'll hold still but you have like 2 minutes to shove that huge needle into my spine and make my world a happy place for the duration of this miracle of birth.) He made my day in two deep breaths, my body was numb from my armpits down, I was peeing in a bag and finally giving my husband looks of "love" instead of "you are never touching me again".
I fell asleep for little catnaps of 20 minutes here and there and finally I was ready to push. And push, and push, and push, for 6 hours straight. The epidural had worn off and it was time for more, the Dude came back and did his wonderful job of making women in labour comfortable.( I bet he has like a gazillion "friends" on Facebook!) More pushing, pushing, pushing and nothing.
We had to call in more Doctors to help get her out, some complications presented itself, so another team of specialists were lining the room waiting for Emma. There must have been 10 or more strangers in the room all watching the action coming from the lower region of my body. And when you hear women tell you that once you've had a kid all modesty that you had, will be out the window; it's true. It was like Old MacDonald's Farm by the time she finally came out of my body. " With a snip, snip, here and forceps going there, here a push, there a pull, everywhere a scream heard! OHHHHHHHH, Old Mac Catharine had her first baby....E-I-E- OOUUUCCCHH!" We heard her cry and all was well, I was tired, so very tired and have been ever since. But it wasn't too bad since I went on to have Elise. (Although when it was time for Elise, I had the Epidural Dude ordered and ready to go by the time we parked the truck!)
This time, my husband did not help me out, as per mine and his request. ( Seems as though seeing how my "stuff" can morph itself from "pleasure zone" to "baby landing strip", didn't sit well with him.) So my sister "in-law", Teresa, was my coach. Corey was allowed in the room until it was push time.
Teresa was a great help, she put up with my complaining, my moaning, and my moments where I thought I was being funny while high on morphine. But really, I was being funny she just didn't get it until a couple of years later. I had seen the movie, The 40 Year Old Virgin, and while he is getting his chest waxed, through the pain he screams, "OHHHH KELLY CLARKSON!" So after a painful contraction I yelled the same! (She hadn't seen the movie nor did the nurse that was in the room, so "looks" were exchanged between the two of them and I was written off as high, not funny! )
Corey made the comment, "Why are you moaning so much you just had an epidural it should all be good." To which Teresa answered for me, "It's like you have to poop really bad and can't! You have to hold it in no matter how uncomfortable you are!"
"Oh." And that is when he made his exit. (smart!)
Once I was able to push Elise out, things went much smoother than with Emma, no snipping, no forceps just some long pushes and out she came. Tired again, but like I said before, I've been tired ever since.
After these precious little miracles are born, your body goes through some changes that will be "unknown" to you, let alone the people that surround and live with you. My hormone balance was so out of whack that I cried if Corey didn't say "hello" in the right tone, or I wanted to rip his nose off if he was breathing too loud while sleeping. Every minute was hit or miss with the tears or laughter or anger, but don't worry, you'll balance out in about 6 to 8 weeks!
Through it all, of course I'm happy to have had them, but NO, we are not having more babies. With every sneeze, cough or jump, I am reminded of the "labour" I went through to bring these beautiful girls into the world, and I admire my stretch marks as trophies to a job well done. My body will never be the same nor will my life. Although, I am blessed to have healthy kids, and blessed that with each "time out" I give them, at the end of the day, I also get an "I love you Mommy." And that my friends was worth showing my "womanhood" to the world, and crying over spilled milk, or maybe it was the milk that engorged my breasts, due to pain or just how unbelievably HUGE they were! But that is a whole other chapter!
I never had the pleasure of going into labour "naturally", both times I had the opportunity to have my body pumped with synthetic hormones to trick my girls into thinking that it was time to come out. There is this gel that was used for Emma, that was stuck up my unit, which was to make the uterus go into contractions. We waited for many hours for this action to take place and all that happened down there was an annoying sensation that my ovaries were on fire, and that I wanted to stick ice cubes up there to turn down the heat. Next came the hormones pumped through my veins. That brought on more action, and I was told do walk around the halls to help move things along.
With your first baby, things tend to be slower in the delivery department, your body hasn't done it before, it knows that it has to, but isn't too sure which way to shoot the baby out. There are many" techniques" that the nurses will give you to help open up your cervix and get it to dilate to the winning number of 10 cm. I did laps around the hospital, sat on an exercise ball and rolled around the room, nothing was making Emma come out any faster. So more hormones were given. That brought on contractions hard and fast, but still I would not dilate. I was in a lot of pain, but could not get the ever loving epidural until I was in the right "window" of opportunity. So instead they gave me "laughing gas". It made me laugh alright, at the idea that this stuff would take the "edge" off. It was making my visitors high more so than myself.
Finally I was ready for the epidural, (and if you are a woman that did this without this form of heaven -on- earth, you are my hero, a little on the Extreme Sports side, but still, my hero!), they brought the forms in for me to sign so I wouldn't try and sue them if the dude slipped and put me in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I said," I promise I won't sue you, you are like my new best friend if you can make me comfortable." The best part was being told to hold still between contractions, (uh, right, I'll hold still but you have like 2 minutes to shove that huge needle into my spine and make my world a happy place for the duration of this miracle of birth.) He made my day in two deep breaths, my body was numb from my armpits down, I was peeing in a bag and finally giving my husband looks of "love" instead of "you are never touching me again".
I fell asleep for little catnaps of 20 minutes here and there and finally I was ready to push. And push, and push, and push, for 6 hours straight. The epidural had worn off and it was time for more, the Dude came back and did his wonderful job of making women in labour comfortable.( I bet he has like a gazillion "friends" on Facebook!) More pushing, pushing, pushing and nothing.
We had to call in more Doctors to help get her out, some complications presented itself, so another team of specialists were lining the room waiting for Emma. There must have been 10 or more strangers in the room all watching the action coming from the lower region of my body. And when you hear women tell you that once you've had a kid all modesty that you had, will be out the window; it's true. It was like Old MacDonald's Farm by the time she finally came out of my body. " With a snip, snip, here and forceps going there, here a push, there a pull, everywhere a scream heard! OHHHHHHHH, Old Mac Catharine had her first baby....E-I-E- OOUUUCCCHH!" We heard her cry and all was well, I was tired, so very tired and have been ever since. But it wasn't too bad since I went on to have Elise. (Although when it was time for Elise, I had the Epidural Dude ordered and ready to go by the time we parked the truck!)
This time, my husband did not help me out, as per mine and his request. ( Seems as though seeing how my "stuff" can morph itself from "pleasure zone" to "baby landing strip", didn't sit well with him.) So my sister "in-law", Teresa, was my coach. Corey was allowed in the room until it was push time.
Teresa was a great help, she put up with my complaining, my moaning, and my moments where I thought I was being funny while high on morphine. But really, I was being funny she just didn't get it until a couple of years later. I had seen the movie, The 40 Year Old Virgin, and while he is getting his chest waxed, through the pain he screams, "OHHHH KELLY CLARKSON!" So after a painful contraction I yelled the same! (She hadn't seen the movie nor did the nurse that was in the room, so "looks" were exchanged between the two of them and I was written off as high, not funny! )
Corey made the comment, "Why are you moaning so much you just had an epidural it should all be good." To which Teresa answered for me, "It's like you have to poop really bad and can't! You have to hold it in no matter how uncomfortable you are!"
"Oh." And that is when he made his exit. (smart!)
Once I was able to push Elise out, things went much smoother than with Emma, no snipping, no forceps just some long pushes and out she came. Tired again, but like I said before, I've been tired ever since.
After these precious little miracles are born, your body goes through some changes that will be "unknown" to you, let alone the people that surround and live with you. My hormone balance was so out of whack that I cried if Corey didn't say "hello" in the right tone, or I wanted to rip his nose off if he was breathing too loud while sleeping. Every minute was hit or miss with the tears or laughter or anger, but don't worry, you'll balance out in about 6 to 8 weeks!
Through it all, of course I'm happy to have had them, but NO, we are not having more babies. With every sneeze, cough or jump, I am reminded of the "labour" I went through to bring these beautiful girls into the world, and I admire my stretch marks as trophies to a job well done. My body will never be the same nor will my life. Although, I am blessed to have healthy kids, and blessed that with each "time out" I give them, at the end of the day, I also get an "I love you Mommy." And that my friends was worth showing my "womanhood" to the world, and crying over spilled milk, or maybe it was the milk that engorged my breasts, due to pain or just how unbelievably HUGE they were! But that is a whole other chapter!
Monday, May 3, 2010
Stress Turns Sweet
It's been a quiet week for blogging, but a hectic week none the less! Still on the "potty mission", and that is just never ending, well the laundry is never ending! We can put a man on the moon, but we can't make potty training a breeze,(well maybe someone has, or at least they claim to, if I pay them $47.95, they'll tell me their secret to training in just 3 short days! Yup, my lily white a** you can!!!) As you can tell we aren't quite there yet with the potty, but I hope it will be before she's 20! So enough bathroom talk, I thought I'd finally share something else......
I had to bring the girls with me to hip hop, Corey had ball hockey and I can't miss any classes, it's crunch time and I have a lot of practicing to do! The girls were so excited to see Mommy's version of what groovin' looks like, and I was just excited to get out of the house from potty lockdown.
I gave them both the "talk" all the way to class,
"Be good. Don't run around, don't scream, just sit and watch, okay? Do you both hear me?"
I hear, " Yes Mom!" from just one little voice in the back seat.
"ELISE, DO - YOU - HEAR- ME?"
(giggle) "YETH Mommy.....I no run 'round..." (giggle)
I swear she was crossing her fingers behind her back while she said that because she so did NOT hear me!
Warm up begins, music pumping, bodies moving,( mine cracking), and you can just see Elise's "inner devil" come to life from her toes to the top of her head. She gets up watching me, watch her, I give her the stink eye, she looks away, and shakes her little booty. Small gestures at first and then all out, she got so excited she did what she thought was going to be a somersault, but turned into a flip, and she whacked her back. To her rescue I go to make sure she could breathe! All good, she shook it off. Again I tell her to sit and watch. I join back into the warm up and off she goes again, shake, shake, shakin' her groove thang!
We start the stretching portion of our warm up, (not my favourite part for so many reasons), and Elise decides that this would be a great time to join in again. She's trying to copy us and did a pretty good job, until , she fell on her head. So she figured that it would be fun to climb all over me in the middle of some kind of leg stretching deal. ( It hurts without a toddler on your back let alone with one moving all over you!) I try to move her back to her spot by Emma who is being soooooo good, but as soon as I did that she was up. I decide to just ignore her and let her have fun. Ignoring Elise is just not possible......
Now it's time for push-ups! Elise gets on my back. The other ladies in the class start laughing, "Ha Ha, let's see how many you can do NOW!" I managed to do 9 "girl" push-ups. And then onto bicycle crunches. Now she's on my stomach and I'm hitting her in the back with my knees with each one, she says, "Mommy, no hittin' that's no nice!"
"Then go sit with Emma and you won't get hit!"
Of course that isn't part of her plan. We begin some sort of butt lifting thing and now I'm bouncing her off my stomach and she decides it would be a way better ride if she just jumped up and down! I think she knocked the wind out of me a few times!
Finally we're done and, I again, place Elise back in her spot by her sister whom is still being really good! We begin our routine and I thought I'd hear Elise protest and tell Niki to turn it down, as she does to me on a regular basis. But she didn't, apparently we were in the right environment for loud music, and my living room is not. She watches us for the first run through, and then after that it was a free for all. She was running from one end of the studio to the other, looking at herself in the mirror, just about got taken out by one of the dancers, all while screaming and laughing her little head off. I finally put the not- so- nice mommy voice on and get her to sit. She's none to impressed but does manage to sit for a few more minutes, and then the whining starts, "Are you done yet Mommy?"
"5 more minutes Elise, just 5 more minutes."
Emma asks me if I'm going to get a sticker when I'm done, (she gets one for tap and ballet) I said,
"No Mommy doesn't get a sticker."
Elise was having no part of that, and starts yelling at Niki, "My Mommy get a ticker! That no nice!" Thank goodness she couldn't hear her over the music, I tell her it's okay, I don't want one. Finally class has come to an end, it was so stressful, I should've just stayed home!
On our way out to the truck Emma says, "Wow Mommy, you're really good!"
I laugh, "Thanks Emma."
"I really liked it when you did like that and then like this," as she makes the gestures of the moves as best she can as I'm running with them to get the h-e -double hockey sticks out of there.
Again, I laugh, and thank her. She says, "Mommy, I think I'm proud of you like you do to me!"
And then, I smile....and the tears well up.....and I stop the mad rush to the truck.....give her a great big hug...."Thank-you Baby."
The anxiety of the recital is still fresh on my mind, but as long as Emma is there watching and proud of her Mom I know I can get through it. All the stomach cramps and feelings of nausea, dry mouth and sweats will be worth it in the end. I'll take her being proud of me while I can because not too far into the future, her pride may turn to embarrassment during those hormonal years. And "if" or "when" it does, I'll remember the day she said she was proud and hope that she does too.
I had to bring the girls with me to hip hop, Corey had ball hockey and I can't miss any classes, it's crunch time and I have a lot of practicing to do! The girls were so excited to see Mommy's version of what groovin' looks like, and I was just excited to get out of the house from potty lockdown.
I gave them both the "talk" all the way to class,
"Be good. Don't run around, don't scream, just sit and watch, okay? Do you both hear me?"
I hear, " Yes Mom!" from just one little voice in the back seat.
"ELISE, DO - YOU - HEAR- ME?"
(giggle) "YETH Mommy.....I no run 'round..." (giggle)
I swear she was crossing her fingers behind her back while she said that because she so did NOT hear me!
Warm up begins, music pumping, bodies moving,( mine cracking), and you can just see Elise's "inner devil" come to life from her toes to the top of her head. She gets up watching me, watch her, I give her the stink eye, she looks away, and shakes her little booty. Small gestures at first and then all out, she got so excited she did what she thought was going to be a somersault, but turned into a flip, and she whacked her back. To her rescue I go to make sure she could breathe! All good, she shook it off. Again I tell her to sit and watch. I join back into the warm up and off she goes again, shake, shake, shakin' her groove thang!
We start the stretching portion of our warm up, (not my favourite part for so many reasons), and Elise decides that this would be a great time to join in again. She's trying to copy us and did a pretty good job, until , she fell on her head. So she figured that it would be fun to climb all over me in the middle of some kind of leg stretching deal. ( It hurts without a toddler on your back let alone with one moving all over you!) I try to move her back to her spot by Emma who is being soooooo good, but as soon as I did that she was up. I decide to just ignore her and let her have fun. Ignoring Elise is just not possible......
Now it's time for push-ups! Elise gets on my back. The other ladies in the class start laughing, "Ha Ha, let's see how many you can do NOW!" I managed to do 9 "girl" push-ups. And then onto bicycle crunches. Now she's on my stomach and I'm hitting her in the back with my knees with each one, she says, "Mommy, no hittin' that's no nice!"
"Then go sit with Emma and you won't get hit!"
Of course that isn't part of her plan. We begin some sort of butt lifting thing and now I'm bouncing her off my stomach and she decides it would be a way better ride if she just jumped up and down! I think she knocked the wind out of me a few times!
Finally we're done and, I again, place Elise back in her spot by her sister whom is still being really good! We begin our routine and I thought I'd hear Elise protest and tell Niki to turn it down, as she does to me on a regular basis. But she didn't, apparently we were in the right environment for loud music, and my living room is not. She watches us for the first run through, and then after that it was a free for all. She was running from one end of the studio to the other, looking at herself in the mirror, just about got taken out by one of the dancers, all while screaming and laughing her little head off. I finally put the not- so- nice mommy voice on and get her to sit. She's none to impressed but does manage to sit for a few more minutes, and then the whining starts, "Are you done yet Mommy?"
"5 more minutes Elise, just 5 more minutes."
Emma asks me if I'm going to get a sticker when I'm done, (she gets one for tap and ballet) I said,
"No Mommy doesn't get a sticker."
Elise was having no part of that, and starts yelling at Niki, "My Mommy get a ticker! That no nice!" Thank goodness she couldn't hear her over the music, I tell her it's okay, I don't want one. Finally class has come to an end, it was so stressful, I should've just stayed home!
On our way out to the truck Emma says, "Wow Mommy, you're really good!"
I laugh, "Thanks Emma."
"I really liked it when you did like that and then like this," as she makes the gestures of the moves as best she can as I'm running with them to get the h-e -double hockey sticks out of there.
Again, I laugh, and thank her. She says, "Mommy, I think I'm proud of you like you do to me!"
And then, I smile....and the tears well up.....and I stop the mad rush to the truck.....give her a great big hug...."Thank-you Baby."
The anxiety of the recital is still fresh on my mind, but as long as Emma is there watching and proud of her Mom I know I can get through it. All the stomach cramps and feelings of nausea, dry mouth and sweats will be worth it in the end. I'll take her being proud of me while I can because not too far into the future, her pride may turn to embarrassment during those hormonal years. And "if" or "when" it does, I'll remember the day she said she was proud and hope that she does too.
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