Add it to the pile

You know, one thing that no one truly prepared me for was the GUILT.

Rational, irrational...it all pretty much gets stirred into the great big melting pot overflowing with reasons why I suck as a parent.

Guilt because I'm way too impatient.  Guilt because sometimes I just can't listen to that blasted Pink Martini CD any more without wanting to HURL.  Guilt because to be brutally honest, I don't really enjoy watching my child play soccer (she's really not very good and she doesn't try very hard).  Guilt because I find Disney Princess Monopoly STUPEFYINGLY BORING.  Guilt because I keep suckers in my purse for Eva because SOMETIMES I NEED THIRTY SECONDS OF SILENCE AND LORD KNOWS THAT WON'T HAPPEN IN THIS LIFETIME UNLESS THAT KID'S MOUTH IS OTHERWISE OCCUPIED.

But today...today was special.

For a variety of reasons, I had to take Addie to work with me.  

This means that we had to wake her up.

Now, Adele is teething.  She's a sleepy little bucket of snot and drool.  Whiny, clingy...all she wants is to be close to Mama and Papa.  She had trouble getting to sleep last night, and when she finally did, she woke up a couple of times.  So this morning, waking her up...you betcha, rhymes with HILT.  Poor little maggot...sound asleep...and we had to wake her up.  Her hair was soaking wet on one side from the drool, and Etienne dressed her while she half-slept.   Breakfast was a bottle and some dry cereal (she gets fruit as a snack midmorning at the daycare...yeah, let someone ELSE feed my hungry child.  GUILT).

I figured things would be quiet enough at work for me to keep Addie for a few hours...it's the Olympics, we have a short show, one story was already lined up, only four reporters to assign.   But rioters in Montreal North had other plans.   A nutso morning.  NUTSO.   No time to entertain an 18-pound tornado spiralling around the newsroom.  Turned my eyes away for five seconds and she was sucking on a fossilized empty mustard packet.  Took that away, turned away for another five seconds, and she was emptying a garbage can into her mouth.  Dealt with that, turned away for another five seconds and looked down to see my child with a fistful of computer cords between her jaws.

So that is why, only ten minutes into my shift and at a time when she is usually just waking up...I hauled my sleepy baby girl up the escalator and dumped her in the lap of the lovely daycare teacher, thinking at least she would be safe there.  Perhaps they might even feed her. Or change her diaper, even.

Then I scuttled back down to my desk, with Addie's cries ringing in my ears.

Now, I know that it's important for kids to have strong role models...mums who are challenged and happy...families that are financially secure...and so on.  I know that they learn valuable social skills and gain strong immune systems at daycare and so on and so on and so on.  

I can justify this whole thing all I want.  

But in the end, my guilt still explodes like a cop car in Montreal North.

This morning, I really and truly felt like a crummy mummy.  

The one good thing I can find in all of this:

The sun will come up in the morning...

And I will get to try again.

After all...there are so many multitudes of OTHER ways I can royally suck as a parent.

Clearly, I've got my work cut out for me.

Big girl

This morning, on waking: "You are not fancy, Mama".
Me, sleepily, "wha?"
Eva: "MAMA. YOU KNOW, I WILL ALWAYS BE FANCIER THAN YOU".

Gee, thanks. So glad we've got that straight at 5:57 in the morning. Come here and let me breathe on you my dear...I'll show you FANCY.

Tonight was a big night for Eva...we were at Etienne's parents' place. Had a lovely supper and then she and her Grandmama left for about a half hour. When they returned, Eva was bouncing off the walls and giving off sparks, she was so excited.

We went out front and she proceeded to show us how she can ride a two-wheeled bike on her own. The bike is an old one handed-down from a cousin. It was a bit small...her knees alternated smashing her chin every time she pedalled. But she did it...rode in uneven circles around a nearby parking lot, skidding her feet along the cement to stop herself. I was so proud! Even more so when she wiped out and didn't even cry.

You know, the past year hasn't always been easy for Eva. Her happy little world was invaded by a blue-eyed Tasmanian Devil...a wee little monster who spatters food, leaves trails of assorted toys and Tupperware everywhere, and poops in the tub when sharing a bath (and then laughs evilly when Eva streaks out of the tub in disgust). A little monster who takes up a lot of Mama and Papa's time...and who has forced Eva to do a fair amount of sharing and growing up over the past twelve months.

Watching her ride that too-small bike tonight, it really made me realize how very quickly this whole parental ride is moving along.

I also realize how very lucky I am.

Screw fancy. I'm just happy to be here.

I like them better dead

For the past few days, Coco has been leaving little presents for us around the patio.

Cute little furry grey presents with tiny tails and sweet little paws, all in various states of chewed-up-edness.

Generally, I am quite fine with scooping up the wee body parts outside the back door, because it means the little bastards are not in my house.

Until tonight.

Etienne and I were sitting with Eva at the kitchen table this evening, when she let out a whoop. 

A MOUSE.

IN THE HOUSE.

(hey, I almost have a Dr. Seuss book there.  But I digress)

The little bum immediately scooted into the radiator near the back door.  Coco lurked there for quite some time, jamming her paws into it repeatedly and then bouncing back in expectation. 

NOTHING. 

We tried to help by turning on the radiator and smoking the little sucker out, but that didn't work either.  And yes, I know that's cruel.  NATURE IS A CRUEL MISTRESS, BABY.

So now I have a mouse that will likely bake in my radiator.

I have a daughter cowering in her bed because "the mouse might come out".

I have a good friend coming to stay tomorrow...a good friend who is very understanding about this sort of thing, especially considering what happened to her the LAST time she was here (Coco left a still-twitching mouse on Cara's pillow during a thunderstorm.)  But there's only so much wildlife a visitor can embrace in a house.

Coco, meanwhile, has blithely scampered off to cruise the hood.

I am too tired to worry about it.

Blithely scampering off to cruise my BED.

I have a feeling Cara's the one who will find the mouse anyway.

Thunderstorms are in the forecast.

And this time, I put TWO pillows on her bed.

Hallooo???

So I was all concerned that no one was reading.
Almost no one left comments.

(This is me being optimistic; maybe the problem really is that no one is reading

A few people have said that leaving comments is next to impossible.
SO I went into the "moderate comments" section and shook it up a little.

Hopefully it's easier.
So...please try again to leave comments.

That way I'll know you care.

Bless the Parental Insurance folks

It looks like I don't have to pay back the money.
They gonna let dis one sliiiiide.

I can not begin to explain the relief.

I had been thinking of ways to explain to Eva that working in a sweatshop is kind of like being in school...that assembling dolls is kind of like playing with them...that sewing logos on brand name pants is kind of like wearing them. Looking for ways to explain that living in a one bedroom unheated apartment under an overpass and scrounging the streets for thrown-out food is kind of a way of family BONDING...and it's good for the environment, too!

But looks like life will continue along normally...which, after the scare we had, is so extraordinarily wonderful, I can't begin to describe it.

IN the "OTHER" category....went to a wedding on the weekend. Left the girls at a friend's house...which clearly illustrated how different my trolls are.

Eva gave me tons of kisses and ran behind the car like a crazed farm dog. She practically had to be restrained by the babysitters.

Addie, meanwhile, didn't even look back when I handed her over. Part of me is delighted that she has no separation issues; that I can leave her and know she will be fine and happy. But a little piece of me feels like, I AM YOUR MOTHER, YOU LITTLE MAGGOT. I AM THE AUTOMATED TELLER OF YOUR FUTURE AND YOU CAN START SAYING THANK YOU BY CARING WHEN I PUT YOU IN THE ARMS OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR TWO HOURS.

She hit the nail home by being happy as a clam, sleeping and eating like a champion, and even busting out the word "lait" - for the first time - in our absence.

Thanks, kid.

You know that cash you want for those shoes in grade nine? The ones EVERYONE wants and you HAVE to have? FUHGEDDABOUTIT. Even though it looks like I will indeed actually have the cash now, thanks to some kindly soul at the Parental Insurance Board.

Insert evil laugh here.
LOVE MAMA

Why I don't deserve my husband

So right now I have a headache that feels like a tympani festival is in full swing inside my head.  A tympani festival with clarinet and accordion accompaniment, being performed in a packed high school gym at 40 degrees.  With humidity.  And a tone-deaf fat guy named Mo who forgot his Right Guard this morning singing along next to me.

Reason?

Adele.

Okay, not my dear sweet lovely little wonder of a beautiful baby girl who, with her amazing sister, makes my life brighter every single day.

But rather, her $%#$@* birth certificate.

You see, when a child is born, one must send in the LARGE FORM BIRTH CERTIFICATE to the Province's parental insurance folks.

Eventually, one gets a note saying, "dude, send in the large form birth certificate".

Well, with it being summer...and with them giving only two weeks notice...I missed the deadline.  

So rather than sending me a note saying, "DUDE YOU FORGOT, SEND IT IN OR WE'LL SEND MO THE MUSIC LOVER OVER TO POUND OUT A FEW TEETH"...instead of that, they send me a CLAIM.

A claim demanding that I repay the benefits I received in the past year.

Yeah, you read correctly.

I. MUST. REPAY. IT. ALL.

Remember that amount that I complained about during my 11 months off?  

Well, suddenly it seems like a pretty BIG FREAKING AMOUNT.  Pretty much like plunking down cash for a new minivan.  A really nice one...with a DIAMOND-STUDDED STEERING WHEEL, HOME THEATRE WITH SEATING FOR 30 PEOPLE, AND HUBCAPS MADE OF SOLID GOLD.

That's basically the amount they want back.  Well, it feels that way. 

So after having three heart attacks, crying for much of the evening, and admiring my husband's cool demeanour in the face of this storm (have I mentioned lately how much I LOVE MY HUSBAND???  REMEMBER THE FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE PART?  THIS IS PRETTY MUCH WORSE AND DUDE IS COOL AS A CUCUMBER)...I am anxiously awaiting 8:00:01 tomorrow morning to call the folks responsible, so I can try to sort this out.

At least everyone is healthy.

We will manage this.

But you know, I'm feeling a TAD BIT O' STRESS TONIGHT.

Wish me luck in the morning.

And send my beautiful husband a bottle of Scotch.  

He deserves it.

Sunrise, sunrise

This morning Addie woke up before 5 a.m.

We brought her into bed between us, rolled her up like a mummy in the sheets, and murmured "It's time to sleep" over and over in both of Canada's official languages.  Of course, she toyed with us a little...sucking her thumb, tugging her ear, and pretending to settle down...before leaping up and jamming a finger into an eye socket the moment we believed that she might actually go back to sleep. 

She was ALMOST THERE...drifting off peacefully...when Mother Nature (THAT WHORE) decided to unleash the thunderstorm to end all thunderstorms.  The claps of thunder were enough to wake the dead...and of course, Adele.

Finally, the storm settled down enough for me to drag the writhing little maggot out to the car... we drove into town and mercifully, found a coffee shop that opened before 7 a.m.  I didn't care if they were serving VARNISH in coffee cups...I was so happy to find a place that was open.

We settled into a seating area with armchairs...I eased back and relaxed while Adder wandered between the empty chairs (she officially started truly walking YESTERDAY!).    A few people sat down and talked with her a bit...she even convinced a young woman to give her half a muffin.

That Norah Jones song "Sunrise, sunrise" (probably not the real title) came on the radio...and I have to admit, I had a little moment.

Watching Adder stagger around smiling at everyone...sipping my coffee in small-town cafe on an early Thursday morning...my husband and big girl still sleeping back at the house...I just couldn't help thinking how these little moments are what make it all worthwhile.  How very lucky I am.  How life truly is beautiful.  

Then my sweet little girl came over to me...smiling...she reached up her little hands for me to take her into my lap...

AND THEN SHE 

VOMITED.

ALL. 

OVER.

ME.

My next child will be a geranium.