I have to apologize for the lack of material here. I have 15 days left of my LAST pregnancy, and pregnesia has completely taken over my brain. The fact that I (usually) remember to feed my currently outside of the womb kids, throw in the occasional load of laundry and run the dishwasher before we end up eating off paper plates is a miracle, as far as I'm concerned.
I went through a "nesting" energy spurt late last week, but I'm not betting on it happening again. At least my hospital bag is now (mostly) packed, and the car seat and bassinette are ready. After having done this three times previously, I'm pretty sure those are the main ones. Anything else we'll figure out as we go along. I have bottles, though they haven't been sterilized in hopes of not needing them for a while (ha!), and a teeny sample can of formula. I have one package of newborn diapers, since I'm always afraid of ending up with a giant baby who won't fit them anyway. I'll make hubby run to the store for more before we go home, depending on what size we need. If it turns out we need formula, I'll make sure he picks that up as well.
Other than that, what does a baby really need? Although us moms like to have matching everything, picture-perfect nurseries, stroller sets worthy of being built by Ferrari and gorgeous little layette sets (that they'll never wear in the end because they might get ruined by spit up), the baby doesn't really NEED all of that stuff. Damn it's fun looking, though :)
So, anyway, I don't know if I'll post again before I get home from the hospital, unless I have a sudden flash of inspiration. I'm also hoping afterwards to start getting other writers onboard, but that takes energy, which is something I'm sorely lacking right now.
Wish me luck, and I'll be back!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
NOT Amused
I have come to the conclusion that amusement parks and the like are NOT the friends of pregnant women. Baby is due in 30 days now (well, c-section is scheduled in 30 days anyway) and I'm huge and uncomfortable. However, that didn't matter this weekend: we decided to take the kids away for a weekend before he arrives.
I booked a "family suite" at the Hampton Inn by Hilton at the Falls (can you think of a longer hotel name? Seriously?) and a package that included admission to the Fallsview Indoor Water Park. We also got a March madness package that gave us free admission to a few places. The kids had a blast, but I have to say, Niagara Falls, while one of my favourite kitschy tourist places, is NOT pregnant-woman friendly.
First off, water slides? Obviously not happening, which SUCKS since I love water slides. They make me feel like a giddy little kid. So, I got to hang around the toddler area with Andrew and Charlotte (and there are no good places for parents to sit, unless on a lounge chair, and I wanted to be IN the water, not beside it) and then in the wave pool. That was LITERALLY the only places I could go.
Then there were the rides that are abundant in the tourist area. Bumper cars: out. 3D movie rides (some of which I've been DYING to go on, and we had free admission darnit!): out. Heck, even the Ghost Hunters ride, which is really very tame and I did go on it, we had to pull one of those stupid bars down, and it wouldn't go down all the way because of my big ol' belly.
I got to go on the SkyWheel, though, which is always fun. Maybe not for my husband, but that's just revenge for him getting to go on the big cyclone waterslide when I can't!
There isn't much for kids Andrew and Charlotte's age, too, so the 3 of us kind of got to sit around waiting for Daddy and Emma a lot of the time. They found a few rides (like the kind you find in malls, etc.) that they liked, and I let them waste some tokens on games that they had no idea how to play, but mainly it was me trying to find a decent (read halfway comfortable) place to sit and trying to keep them from running in different directions. Fun!
The other problem with Niagara Falls for the hugely pregnant is that the entire tourist area is built on a hill. A BIG HILL. Every time I had to walk back up it I just wanted to cry, but I didn't, because that would just look silly.
All in all, though, the kids had a blast and so did we. We're all exhausted, and since it IS March Break I'm very much hoping that they will all sleep in a bit for me tomorrow, but still have decent naps. A girl can dream, right?
I booked a "family suite" at the Hampton Inn by Hilton at the Falls (can you think of a longer hotel name? Seriously?) and a package that included admission to the Fallsview Indoor Water Park. We also got a March madness package that gave us free admission to a few places. The kids had a blast, but I have to say, Niagara Falls, while one of my favourite kitschy tourist places, is NOT pregnant-woman friendly.
First off, water slides? Obviously not happening, which SUCKS since I love water slides. They make me feel like a giddy little kid. So, I got to hang around the toddler area with Andrew and Charlotte (and there are no good places for parents to sit, unless on a lounge chair, and I wanted to be IN the water, not beside it) and then in the wave pool. That was LITERALLY the only places I could go.
Then there were the rides that are abundant in the tourist area. Bumper cars: out. 3D movie rides (some of which I've been DYING to go on, and we had free admission darnit!): out. Heck, even the Ghost Hunters ride, which is really very tame and I did go on it, we had to pull one of those stupid bars down, and it wouldn't go down all the way because of my big ol' belly.
I got to go on the SkyWheel, though, which is always fun. Maybe not for my husband, but that's just revenge for him getting to go on the big cyclone waterslide when I can't!
There isn't much for kids Andrew and Charlotte's age, too, so the 3 of us kind of got to sit around waiting for Daddy and Emma a lot of the time. They found a few rides (like the kind you find in malls, etc.) that they liked, and I let them waste some tokens on games that they had no idea how to play, but mainly it was me trying to find a decent (read halfway comfortable) place to sit and trying to keep them from running in different directions. Fun!
The other problem with Niagara Falls for the hugely pregnant is that the entire tourist area is built on a hill. A BIG HILL. Every time I had to walk back up it I just wanted to cry, but I didn't, because that would just look silly.
All in all, though, the kids had a blast and so did we. We're all exhausted, and since it IS March Break I'm very much hoping that they will all sleep in a bit for me tomorrow, but still have decent naps. A girl can dream, right?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Avoiding the household pandemic
In my humble opinion, having a sick kid is one of the hardest parts of being a parent, at least in terms of the day-to-day problems. It's not just that it's hard to watch someone you love feeling miserable, it's the logistics, too. If both parents work, who stays home with the ailing individual? Or are they lucky enough to have family nearby who are willing to risk being infected themselves?
Then there's the whole handwashing thing: not just yours, but theirs, too. Usually to the point where your skin will crack and bleed profusely if you wash them one more time. And the sanitizing... ugh! I can barely keep up with normal, everyday cleaning, much less disinfecting everything my child could have come into contact with or potentially breathed on.
When you have more than one child, though, the difficulties of a sick kid can become reason for panic. How do you keep the first sick kid from becoming the second, third or fourth sick kid? Suddenly cracked and bleeding hands are a small price to pay for avoiding an epidemic. The dreaded cleaning becomes the only line of defense against the dreaded "germies."
And, if by some miracle, you only have one sick child amongst your bunch, the logistical nightmares can multiply exponentially. This was my situation a couple of days ago, and the reason behind today's rant.
I was out with my two youngest yesterday (Andrew needed a "cool dude haircut") when my cell phone rang. I don't have call display (I know, dark ages, right? I am also severely deficient when it comes to texting skills) so I answered with a pleasant, if somewhat confused (no one EVER calls my cell phone) "Hello?"
"Where are you?" my loving husband's voice demanded. I informed him that I was at the grocery store, in a somewhat put off tone, given his lack of pleasantries.
"I've got Emma on my cell phone," he informed me. "She says she's sick." And so it began. I paid for the groceries, loaded them and the two youngest into the van, all while trying to get them to hurry by telling them that Emma was sick (which only resulted in hearing about 15 choruses of "Emma sick?" from Andrew) and drove over to the school to pick up my sick kid.
I put her on the couch for the afternoon while her brother and sister slept (and me, too, truth be told - I am, after all, VERY pregnant and VERY tired) and all was well. She didn't look very good, but no actual puking occurred, so that was positive. By bedtime, though, she still didn't look as if she was going to be up for school the next morning. Problem was, Charlotte had nursery school the next morning.
When we lived in town, this wouldn't have been a big deal. I would've just loaded everyone into the van, taken Charlotte to nursery school, then brought Andrew and Emma back home until pick-up time, when I would've loaded everyone up again to pick up Charlotte, and then we'd be done for the day.
But we don't live five minutes from the nursery school anymore. It's a 30-40 minute drive each way for a 2 1/2 hr class. I drop her off at school, then find some way to keep Andrew and I occupied until pick-up time. Usually on Thursday mornings I take Andrew to "Little Feet Fitness and Fun", a preschool "gym." Obviously this wasn't going to work with a sick 8 year old. I really didn't know what I was going to do with her. Even if we didn't go to Little Feet (and Andrew woudl NOT have been happy at missing his favourite outing of the week) where could I possibly hang out for 2 hours with a sick kid?
I lucked out in that my father-in-law (who lives all of 400ft away) was okay with me dropping her off there for the morning, but I didn't actually find this out until about 30 minutes before we had to leave in the morning. I was still stressing about what on earth I was going to do right up until that moment.
Emma's mostly better now, although she still looks pretty rough. She went to school yesterday, but I don't think she's 100% yet. Time will tell if we've managed to avoid an epidemic, though.
A mom can only hope.
Then there's the whole handwashing thing: not just yours, but theirs, too. Usually to the point where your skin will crack and bleed profusely if you wash them one more time. And the sanitizing... ugh! I can barely keep up with normal, everyday cleaning, much less disinfecting everything my child could have come into contact with or potentially breathed on.
When you have more than one child, though, the difficulties of a sick kid can become reason for panic. How do you keep the first sick kid from becoming the second, third or fourth sick kid? Suddenly cracked and bleeding hands are a small price to pay for avoiding an epidemic. The dreaded cleaning becomes the only line of defense against the dreaded "germies."
And, if by some miracle, you only have one sick child amongst your bunch, the logistical nightmares can multiply exponentially. This was my situation a couple of days ago, and the reason behind today's rant.
I was out with my two youngest yesterday (Andrew needed a "cool dude haircut") when my cell phone rang. I don't have call display (I know, dark ages, right? I am also severely deficient when it comes to texting skills) so I answered with a pleasant, if somewhat confused (no one EVER calls my cell phone) "Hello?"
"Where are you?" my loving husband's voice demanded. I informed him that I was at the grocery store, in a somewhat put off tone, given his lack of pleasantries.
"I've got Emma on my cell phone," he informed me. "She says she's sick." And so it began. I paid for the groceries, loaded them and the two youngest into the van, all while trying to get them to hurry by telling them that Emma was sick (which only resulted in hearing about 15 choruses of "Emma sick?" from Andrew) and drove over to the school to pick up my sick kid.
I put her on the couch for the afternoon while her brother and sister slept (and me, too, truth be told - I am, after all, VERY pregnant and VERY tired) and all was well. She didn't look very good, but no actual puking occurred, so that was positive. By bedtime, though, she still didn't look as if she was going to be up for school the next morning. Problem was, Charlotte had nursery school the next morning.
When we lived in town, this wouldn't have been a big deal. I would've just loaded everyone into the van, taken Charlotte to nursery school, then brought Andrew and Emma back home until pick-up time, when I would've loaded everyone up again to pick up Charlotte, and then we'd be done for the day.
But we don't live five minutes from the nursery school anymore. It's a 30-40 minute drive each way for a 2 1/2 hr class. I drop her off at school, then find some way to keep Andrew and I occupied until pick-up time. Usually on Thursday mornings I take Andrew to "Little Feet Fitness and Fun", a preschool "gym." Obviously this wasn't going to work with a sick 8 year old. I really didn't know what I was going to do with her. Even if we didn't go to Little Feet (and Andrew woudl NOT have been happy at missing his favourite outing of the week) where could I possibly hang out for 2 hours with a sick kid?
I lucked out in that my father-in-law (who lives all of 400ft away) was okay with me dropping her off there for the morning, but I didn't actually find this out until about 30 minutes before we had to leave in the morning. I was still stressing about what on earth I was going to do right up until that moment.
Emma's mostly better now, although she still looks pretty rough. She went to school yesterday, but I don't think she's 100% yet. Time will tell if we've managed to avoid an epidemic, though.
A mom can only hope.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Welcome!
Welcome to “Climbing Up the Slide”. It’s an idea I’ve had for a long time now. I wanted a place where I could offer my own musings on parenthood, but hopefully where other parents that I know (and maybe some that I don’t!) could offer theirs, too. Many of my friends and acquaintances have very different takes on parenting than I do, and personally, I like to hear about them. Sometimes I shake my head, but sometimes I learn from them.
To me, being a parent is like climbing up the slide at the playground when you’re a kid. It’s more work than going down the slide, but usually a lot more fulfilling if you make it all the way to the top. The other reason I chose this as a name was that so many parents now are afraid to let their kids do things like climb the “wrong” way on the slide, but that was such a big part of being a kid when I was young. It sort of sums up my parenting philosophy: I want my kids to experience life, not be wrapped up in bubble wrap all the time. Yes, they’ll get hurt, but as Dory says in “Finding Nemo” (and how many of us parents quote from Disney movies and shows on a daily basis now? Can I get a “hell, yeah!”) “If nothing ever happens to him, then NOTHING will ever happen to him.”
When you have your first child, it seems like it can’t be THAT hard – after all, a good portion of the human population does it at some point in their lives. There are zillions of books out there that tell you EXACTLY what you need to do, while you’re pregnant, with an infant, with a toddler, a rebellious teenager, so as long as you know what you’re doing it’ll be smooth sailing, right?
WRONG!
I remember coming home from the hospital with my oldest daughter, Emma. It was February of 2001 and I was 24 years old. I put her into the cradle beside our bed, stared at her for a while, and then thought “Oh my God – they actually let me take her out of the hospital! What do I do with her NOW?”
I still feel like that some days, and Emma is 8 years old now. I have two other kids, Charlotte, born in July of 2005 and Andrew, born in August of 2006. In 41 days we will welcome baby #4 – supposedly a boy, but I guess we’ll know for sure in 41 days. Every one of my children is different from the others in their own way, while at the same time being just enough like his/her siblings to confuse me!
Some days I feel like an awesome mom, but other days I feel like I’m drowning. I do some really cool things with my kids, but then I’ll turn around and do something I SWORE I’d never do. I have been known (*AHEM) to raise my voice occasionally. I even give a swat on the butt now and then, despite the fact that, in theory, I don’t believe in it. I always feel a raging sense of guilt whenever that happens.
I guess I wonder what makes us believe that even though human beings are inherently fallible, we should be perfect as parents. My husband and I have sort of become gypsies over the past few years. We’ve moved houses 3 times since June of 2007, which has meant that Emma has been to four different schools in four years of school, and only in her first year of school did she actually finish the year in the school at which she started. You want to talk Mommy Guilt? Try taking your kid out of a school that they’re happy at and having her say, “It’s okay, I’m used to it.” I’m convinced that she’s going to end up in therapy later on, raging about how horrible we were for never letting her stay in one spot. Then again, I’ve had people tell me that she’ll grow up to be really adaptable and comfortable in any setting, which could be a big plus, I suppose. It doesn’t stop the guilt, though.
I’m looking forward to sharing more of my kids with all of you. The site is still “under construction” while I learn more about how Blogger works, so have patience with me! I just really wanted to start getting some content up. I hope that you enjoy what you find here in the coming days! If you’re interested in contributing, please feel free to email me at 8thCyn@climbinguptheslide.com.
To me, being a parent is like climbing up the slide at the playground when you’re a kid. It’s more work than going down the slide, but usually a lot more fulfilling if you make it all the way to the top. The other reason I chose this as a name was that so many parents now are afraid to let their kids do things like climb the “wrong” way on the slide, but that was such a big part of being a kid when I was young. It sort of sums up my parenting philosophy: I want my kids to experience life, not be wrapped up in bubble wrap all the time. Yes, they’ll get hurt, but as Dory says in “Finding Nemo” (and how many of us parents quote from Disney movies and shows on a daily basis now? Can I get a “hell, yeah!”) “If nothing ever happens to him, then NOTHING will ever happen to him.”
When you have your first child, it seems like it can’t be THAT hard – after all, a good portion of the human population does it at some point in their lives. There are zillions of books out there that tell you EXACTLY what you need to do, while you’re pregnant, with an infant, with a toddler, a rebellious teenager, so as long as you know what you’re doing it’ll be smooth sailing, right?
WRONG!
I remember coming home from the hospital with my oldest daughter, Emma. It was February of 2001 and I was 24 years old. I put her into the cradle beside our bed, stared at her for a while, and then thought “Oh my God – they actually let me take her out of the hospital! What do I do with her NOW?”
I still feel like that some days, and Emma is 8 years old now. I have two other kids, Charlotte, born in July of 2005 and Andrew, born in August of 2006. In 41 days we will welcome baby #4 – supposedly a boy, but I guess we’ll know for sure in 41 days. Every one of my children is different from the others in their own way, while at the same time being just enough like his/her siblings to confuse me!
Some days I feel like an awesome mom, but other days I feel like I’m drowning. I do some really cool things with my kids, but then I’ll turn around and do something I SWORE I’d never do. I have been known (*AHEM) to raise my voice occasionally. I even give a swat on the butt now and then, despite the fact that, in theory, I don’t believe in it. I always feel a raging sense of guilt whenever that happens.
I guess I wonder what makes us believe that even though human beings are inherently fallible, we should be perfect as parents. My husband and I have sort of become gypsies over the past few years. We’ve moved houses 3 times since June of 2007, which has meant that Emma has been to four different schools in four years of school, and only in her first year of school did she actually finish the year in the school at which she started. You want to talk Mommy Guilt? Try taking your kid out of a school that they’re happy at and having her say, “It’s okay, I’m used to it.” I’m convinced that she’s going to end up in therapy later on, raging about how horrible we were for never letting her stay in one spot. Then again, I’ve had people tell me that she’ll grow up to be really adaptable and comfortable in any setting, which could be a big plus, I suppose. It doesn’t stop the guilt, though.
I’m looking forward to sharing more of my kids with all of you. The site is still “under construction” while I learn more about how Blogger works, so have patience with me! I just really wanted to start getting some content up. I hope that you enjoy what you find here in the coming days! If you’re interested in contributing, please feel free to email me at 8thCyn@climbinguptheslide.com.
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