A Covert Operation

Silence. Ahhh, my mind floats and concentration evades me. Where am I? I don't care. All I know is that the house, yes I believe I am in a house, is quiet and peace prevails. Wait a minute, peace? My calm and blissfully ignorant state of mind is shattered as I come upon the rapid realization that something is elementally wrong with this picture. I have an 18 month old, nothing should ever be quiet. Frantically, I pull myself out of my hazed stupor and proceed to search high and low for my busy little boy. "Caleb!" I call out, nothing. I search his room, the toys sit in wild abandon, mocking my futile efforts. "Caleb, come to mommy!" The bathroom... perhaps he is playing with the toilet paper! Running in that direction, I come upon definite signs of his presence, but my son is nowhere to be seen. The toilet paper has mysteriously been emptyed off its roll and haphazardly discarded into the toilet; which upon closer examination, now has the appearance of being hopelessly clogged. Yup, he was here all right! I close the door behind me to ensure no more damage ensues and continue looking. Selah's room is next, but the door is still closed, and she is still sleeping. No signs of toddler trouble here. The living room is empty as well. Cautiously arriving at my last resort I slow my pace and very carefully peer into the depths of the kitchen... nothing? Wait, that cannot be! There is no where else in this little house for him to hide! And then I hear it... "crinkle, crinkle, crinkle," he has to be here somewhere. Upon closer examination, I see my little monkey... under the table. He has geniously discovered his "potty candy" from the bathroom, and retreated to his hideaway to devour it in utter secrecy. Aha! Carefully assuming my "stern mommy" face, I step into the kitchen with my hands on my hips. "Caleb, what are you doing?" I watch as my son goes absolutely still, obviously under the misconceived impression that if he doesn't move, I can't see him (has he been watching too much jurrasic park with daddy???). As I begin my descent to his level, my ingenious son quickly realizes his precarious situation, and hastily shoves the remaining stash into his mouth. From here, he looks up at me apologetically as he preforms the sign for 'sorry' in a most convincing manner. I, being the all-knowing mother, have seen this act one too many times and proceed to lovingly and strictly direct my son towards his appropriate punishment. Afterwards, he grins up at me and runs away, mouth still brimming with candy. I sit down on the couch with a sense of wonderment. For despite doing all the right things, I have the uncanny impression that my son has just won the: "Battle for the candy." Oh well, there's always next time right?

Family Life

Well, I figure an update is in order, considering I haven't written in about a month. One month, a short amount of time, and yet in the lives of young children, an eternity. For a good portion of this month, we were vacationing... which one might define as going to a new place or somewhere warm for a memorable family experience. We, the spooners, define it as going to visit family. Whoop-de-do. And yet, still memorable and enjoyable. We packed up on the 11th, and came home on the 21st. From there, we had one night to do laundry and repack before we went with Jess and Andy to the states. What fun! How is it that when considering going somewhere, my common sense goes out the window????? "We will stay in hotel for a couple of nights! Won't that be fun????" NO! HOTEL BAD.... NOT FUN! What was I thinking? Two kids in the same room as us, screaming and wailing from being in the car? Oy vey. Needless to say, it was actually not that bad. We went to Spokane and I was able to get most of the kids' summer clothes (albeit no cheaper than I would have here in Canada, but hey, it was something new) as well as cut off all my hair. All right, not all of it, but a good portion. I got a good visit in with my sister, and got to see a long-lost friend that I haven't seen in 6 years! All in all, a profitable trip. And if I am learning anything about children, it is this:
You can let them control your life. Never leave home. It really is easier that way. Stick to the routine. Everyone is happy. OR... you can do what you want to do. Make memories. You won't really remember the sweating, panicking, hopelessly trying to soothe and pacify... all you will remember is the picture... a smiling, happy family! Oh please, let this be true?!?!?!

Needless to say, we came home from all this travelling exhausted and... wait for it... sick (of course). Our house is now officially heaped with clothes, laundry, suitcases, and toys. But we are home. Home, home, home. Now all I need to do is get busy and find a place for all these new arrivals to the spooner household. Oh wait, there is not place for them! Hello mess, goodbye order. As for the kids, what can I say? Growing like weeds, cliche I know, but so true. My little girl has officially graduated from an infant, to a moving and groving baby. She has changed so much in the last month, I hardly recognize her. She used to play strange with ANYONE other than me, gone. She is the happiest baby on the block. Pass her off to complete strangers, and she has a grin for all of them! Is it wrong to be a little bit sad? She now has two teeth, nursing is a joke... all she wants to do is take me with her as she explores her whole new world. She is so close to crawling, can move forwards, backwards, and turn herself in every which direction... in other words, MOBILE! Sniff, when did this happen? Caleb, on the other hand, is my steady man. He tries any word you say, walks, runs, and his newest acheivement... jumping (he barely leaves the ground, but I swear the kid thinks he is flying!). He loves to dance, and if you have ever watched Elaine on Seinfeld's dance moves, you will know his style. Very similar. Don't ask where he learned to dance like that! He is our sicky right now. He has never had the flu before, and I must say, I am definitely more sympathetic with the flu than when he has a cold. I have changed his sheets and outfit 8 times in the last day and half. And now my husband has started. Vitamin C, here I come! He has all four of his eye teeth, FINALLY! Hallelujah!

Well, that is our family in a nutshell, for now that is. I would love to continue writing about the crazy events of our everyday life, however now that the kids are sleeping, my job begins. It is now or never... and the suitcases are in desperate need to be emptied. So, wishing you all a happy end to your week... Spooner out.

The ultimate parent

What a week! What a month really. Filled with screaming children, tantrums, spontaneous tears, whining, fussing, kids pulling at my legs, etc. etc. etc. And I am loathe to remind myself that this will be the next 2 (at least) years of my life. If there is anything my short experience at motherhood has taught me, it is that there is no right answer. Every child is different, every parent is different, and every situation is different. But this does not stop me from being overcome by the "mother guilt" every once in a while. Take my son for example, this teething thing is becoming the excuse of the century, and I now have no idea what to do. Is he really teething, or is he just over-tired, perhaps I put him to bed too early, or maybe he had a bad dream. Do I give him tylenol, or am I just over-drugging a kid that doesn't need it???? And round and round I go. Then there is my daughter, an even bigger enigma. I feed her, and feed her and feed her, and still she wants more. She is not gaining as much as she should and so I have doctors breathing down my neck to switch to formula. That is all fine and dandy for them, but my little girl wouldn't dream of letting a bottle or the wretched taste of formula anywhere NEAR her queenly little mouth. Oh dear, now what? I feed her solid food twice a day and try to rest and drink lots of fluid to increase my milk supply... it is an ongoing, continuous, constant case of nerves. Is she getting enough? What do I do? How can I increase my milk? etc. etc. etc.

Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother, and I suppose if it didn't come with challenges, I would get bored much to easily. But that doesn't stop me from being bombarded with the question I ask myself EVERY DAY..... what now?

My dear husband hears a squeak out of our children and the first adoring words out of his mouth are: "what do they want?" As if I would know. I must admit that I have been known to throw my hands up in the air, and walk away, adamately declaring, "I don't know, you deal with it." This is a wonderful approach to my temporary lack of sanity, until minutes later I hear my children still crying and my husband standing in the same spot as he has NO idea what do do. Sigh, mom is back on the job. I suppose I will never get to renounce my duties. I will always be the one with the "collossal answer", even when I feel as though there is no answer. And so it is that I find myself time and time again calling out to God for answers. It is with great regret that I admit that he is often my last resort, and because of that, I believe that I miss out on much wisdom. However, he is always faithful to me, and even if the answer to my question is "go with your gut" or "trust me" or simply "do nothing, wait" there is always an answer, if I simply seek it. And so,dear reader, I am not a perfect parent, FAR FROM IT! But I get my tips and tricks from the best parent there is, and it is through Him that I will press on to my goal.

Happy parenting!