Summer Update

As I sit here at my kitchen table listening to my kids "nap" (aka play and sing and generally climb the walls), I can't help but consider the chaos that is my life. In just a few short weeks Malakai has changed so much. He has three teeth, he sits, he crawls, he squeals and screams, he doesn't want to be held and arches to be on the floor. He fusses he frets, he even is starting to sign some words like "all done". He has overnight changed from an infant to a mobile baby and it is hitting me pretty hard. I felt like with the others their transition to babyhood was more gradual. What do I do with this child that I hardly know anymore? He is developing his own personality and preferences and all I can think is: "rewind!"

Selah turned two at the end of July. And thank God, her tantrums and screaming fits are beginning to subside. They still happen every day, but not every minute of the day. And for that I am eternally grateful. She is beginning to morph into this beautiful little girl. She is so kind and caring, compassionate and sensitive, and yet she has this toughness to her (being Caleb's little sister is a prime suspect), this incredible strength that some days I don't have the strength to battle. Selah: my warrior princess. She loves her dolly and puts everything on time out from her animals to her favourite beach ball. She eats like a horse, far surpassing Caleb and most nights... me too. Her smile pretty much lights up my life and I am so thankful to have this little girl in my life.

Caleb turns three tomorrow. I can hardly believe it! He isn't a toddler any longer and everyday he surprises me with some new tidbit of knowledge he has acquired. Darned TV, he sure doesn't get all that from me so where else does it come from? He is a little mother, he considers Malakai his "son" (to which we have had a number of arguments that I seem to lose on a pretty consistent basis). He is constantly asking me "Mama, can you put Selah on timeout please?" making sure that she receives her just rewards (the fact is he is usually right, she needs a timeout, oy vey). Bedtime has become my constant battleground and the only way to get him to sleep is to sit outside his room like a sleep vigilante. He crawls into Malakai's crib to play with him at least 20 times before finally succumbing to sleep. He is my biggest helper most of the time and he is such a boy. Always playing with his cars and trying to tackle you to the floor. His smile can melt me and he knows it too, using his charm to its utmost capabilities.

Ah my kids, I don't know where to start or how to end. They are everything to me. They are my life, my aspirations and goals, my heart and my soul. They are the reason I get up the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night. They are growing up. I can remember... and I mean REMEMBER the moment each of them were born as if it were yesterday and here they are, their own little people. What a powerful thing, having children. Teaching them, raising them to be strong, capable adults. Whoever said being a stay-at-home mom wasn't a career? The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, isn't it so? I may not be raising the next Prime Minister, but I am raising little people who will inevitably touch the lives of those around them. So bring it on I say! And may God give me the strength I need to be the best I can be today.

Top Reasons I am Proud to be Canadian

I'll be completely honest here, in the past I have not felt a grand sense of patriotism towards my country. Sure, I think it is beautiful, but I have been frustrated with its politics and seemingly lethargic attitude. It wasn't until this year, watching the Olympics, that I truly felt PROUD to be Canadian. We live in one of the most beautiful countries in the world, and I am feeling rather patriotic on this holiday for the following reasons:

1. Canadians are so polite.
Just the other day Sonia and I were talking about how you can always tell an American by their blatant "me-first" attitude. You can tell them by their driving, even by the way they walk... When a Canadian walks down the street, they talk to strangers, "hi, nice day out today. How are you?" They hold open doors for other people, they are there to lend a helping hand. Now, I am not trying to bash my American neighbours over there, to be honest I don't blame them. There are so many people in the States, if you don't think of yourself, you get mowed over down there! And there is no question that not everyone is like that. But the fact remains, Canada is a kind country, and I am thankful to be a part of that.

2. Canada is Beautiful
When I see pictures of different countries, Greece, Mexico, Italy, I am envious and wish I could go there, see their beauty. We may not be surrounded by blue-green waters, but we are surrounded by beauty. We have forests and lakes, rivers and stunning waterfalls, islands, amazing wildlife! This country is beautiful! It is raw, it is natural, and I love that.

3. Canada is Versatile
If you go to the Amazon, you can expect to find the hot and humid rainforest. If you go to anywhere along the equator, you can expect to find hot climates. In Canada, nothing is to be expected. There is rain and snow, wind and cold. It is hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Along the west coast there is rain, up north it is cooler. We are surrounded by mountain ranges and passes. Canada is a versatile country, and every year is different than the last.

4. Canadians are inspirational
I was trying to think of what word to use here, a word to describe how we aim for the best. We aren't necessarily the "best". We don't have the best singers in the world, we are not the hub of famous actors. (although apparently we are the best athletically this year :) But we always try. Watching the olympics, I felt a sense of community I have never felt before, and I was inspired. Inspired by these day to day people I was watching do extraordinary things. Inspired by the people shamelessly cheering their country on. Inspired by the faces of expectation, by the very heart of our country expressed so openly. Yes, we are an inspirational country.

5. Canadians are accepting
To our detriment at times, we accept. We accept people and races of every kind, Canada is sought after by thousands of immigrants each year. We provide jobs for them, we provide education for them, we accept them into our communities and circles. We are an attractive country to come to, it is strange to think that as much as I want to go and travel, people want to travel here! :)

These are just a few of the many reasons I am proud to be a Canadian this holiday. Not to mention our healthcare system as being one of the best in the world. With three small children, I could not imagine having to pay each time they needed an x-ray or a test. I trust this country to take care of me and my family, I think this country is beautiful, and I am honored to bear the name: "Canadian" this day!

Monthly Confessional: Identity Crisis

My kids are asleep, the house has transformed from my cage to my sanctuary. Its many corners and crevices are all mine to explore and search for the peace and quiet I am so desperate to find. And so it is that I find myself a cozy little space and sit down to write my monthly confessional. June, a month of spontaneity. Wind and calm, sun and rain, wind and stillness. I have been forced to consider why I feel a sense of discontent these last weeks. What is it that causes this stir deep within to reach out for something more? I have everything I could ever wish for. A wonderful husband, three beautiful (albeit spunky) children, a home of my own... no it is not possessions I desire, I am feeling a sense of loss this month. Feeling the loss of my 'youth'. I quote that for the sake of those who are rolling their eyes at my dramatist mentality. My age is not lost on me, I am still young, a fact I am reminded of every time someone realizes these children I traipse after all day are actually mine! No, it is not the number that I begrudge. I guess I feel like this stage of my life is stealing something from me, a part of who I used to be. I used to be fun, spontaneous, full of life, so sure of myself! Now I feel tired, bored with the same routine in and out day-by-day, and insecure.


So my monthly confessional is this: I miss that which I never had. I wish I didn't have to let go of that fun, spontaneous person I used to be. I wish I could take my husband out without worrying over babysitters and money. I wish I could do something new, something exciting! I am watching myself turn into a mom, a real mom. Serious, responsible, all the things I both resented and admired in my own mother... and it scares me and makes me a little bit sad for the person I am leaving behind. Maybe this has been happening for a while and I just haven't seen it, I mean the last three years have been pretty busy with weddings, new babies, moving, etc. Now that everything has settled down and I have time to sit down and reminisce, I realize that somewhere along the way I changed. Not only did I assume a mantle of responsibility and seriousness that wasn't there before, but I lost a lot of my confidence. Shouldn't it be the other way around? No, I feel all mixed up. I don't belong any longer with the young, unmarried people. I don't even belong with the married people. I belong with the parent people. People who are mostly older than me. I feel out of place. I feel insecure. And I HATE that! When I walk into a room of people, I have to force myself to put on a face when really I just want to go back home. WHO AM I?!?!?!?!? No, I don't think this is an age crisis at all, it is an identity crisis. It's all about who I am now versus who I used to be. 


I suppose the question is what do I do with it? I don't know the answer to that. Things, experiences, are not going to change the person that I am. I guess it is just something I am going to have to accept and let go. But that is a lot easier than it sounds. I feel like I am all of a sudden in strange boots that DON'T FIT! I don't know how to walk in them and I just want my old ones back. But I can't. I think I will grow into this new role, this new person that God is forming me into. There is no use fighting something that is inevitable, I will only make it harder on myself. My confessional, I am in a total identity crisis right now. And so very tempted to go out and be spontaneous, laugh, be carefree! Sigh. I need my sister :) 

Sweeter as we go...

I have thoughts, as crazy as it might sound. And as I have been unable to portray these thoughts in passing conversations, I have decided to attempt it in writing...

Over the last 7 months since Malakai's birth, both Jonathan and I have spent both time and energy discussing and searching as to why we feel so strongly towards him. Perhaps it is because he was born pre-mature. Maybe it is because of his personality. Maybe we both just love babies and were like this with all the children and we don't remember. Maybe it is that he was so little and has been in and out of the hospital more than the others. We guess and we wonder, we discuss and we ponder. And I believe I have finally achieved an opinion regarding the matter.

As time has progressed and with each new baby we have felt as though we cherish this baby more than the last. Let me clarify that I am not saying love or favor, simply cherish. And I believe that that is because after experiencing it 3 times now, we know that it passes so quickly and we are taking our time to enjoy and treasure the short time that we have. To us, baby's truly are sweeter as we go. I can already anticipate that whenever we have another, I will look at my older three and wonder where the time has gone and try to snatch every last minute I can with the new one while I still can. The second reason is that we have two toddlers. Screaming, fighting, toddlers who require nearly constant time and attention and copious amounts of patience! So when we see sweet little Malakai cooing and smiling and babbling at us, asking nothing, doing nothing wrong... we are drawn to his innocence and his ease. He is easy to be with. He is a breath of fresh air in the midst of our chaos! :)

In conclusion, we love all of our children dearly and equally, albeit differently. Each of them carries so many characteristics that draw us to them, make us laugh. However as time flies by and our lives continue to somehow get away from us, each passing child becomes more and more precious, a reason to slow down and "smell the downy baby hair." And that is a temptation I can't bear to pass up! Mmmm, I have to go snuggle my son now! Good night all!

Part I: A Glimpse into the Life of...

Part 1:

A Glimpse into the Life of... Caleb

"Mama! Maaaaama! Mamamamamama!" The familiar sound accosts my ears and I sigh in defeat knowing that at this very moment my son has awakened not only me, but the entire household. 

"Shhhhh, daddy's sleeping," my morning mantra sounds effortlessly from my lips. Feeling put out that the first words I speak to my son in the morning are to quiet him, I comfort myself in the fact that it is in an effort to maintain peace in the home.

"Hi mama, I'm hungry. I want some cheerios. Taleb wants some cheerios."

"Yes, son I know you are hungry. Let's go get some cereal."

"YAAAAAY! Cheerios, cheerios, cheerios!" well, so much for keeping the house quiet. I try to be annoyed that my whole house has been usurped by this tiny little man in front of me, but I can't as he sings his cheerio song and jumps his way to the kitchen to claim his prize. Sigh.

I now know why babies and toddlers are so cute, God made them that way so that you would be addicted to them despite their many downfalls :) We bound our way to the kitchen (well, he bounds... I stumble awkwardly) and I pour him some cereal only to have to go and grab the rest of the children who are now wide awake at the sound of Caleb's proclaimed joy. Malakai wants to eat, Selah wants some cereal too, and I dream of coffee, anticipating it's reviving qualities.

The morning seems to get away from me. Caleb steals Selah's spoon, he encourages her to bang on the table (which he knows they are not allowed to do), he pokes her, he makes her scream, he coos and talks to his brother, he whines for more cereal. Feeling as though I have lived a lifetime in one short morning, I look at the clock only to find that a mere 5 minutes has passed, and I still have at least 600 minutes to go. Oh man, this does not bode well for me! 

The day drags on in typical spooner fashion, screaming, fighting, and in Caleb's case... silliness.

ie. The house is silent, which means the kids are not fighting, which means that Caleb and Selah are seperated, which means that Caleb has gotten into something. I run around the house and find him in the kitchen, hiding under the table. Aha! Food. Sure enough, he has stolen a pear off the counter and is chowing down under the table. Upon being caught he looks up at me with no guilt, but rather an expression of "shoot, you caught me mom, you won't catch me next time! It was soooo worth it!"

"Here you go mama" he says as he gives it over to me with a big smile. He doesn't fool me, I know what is going on in that little head. Already, at two and a half, he tries to pull the wool over my eyes. Does he really think that I will believe he was just getting the pear for mama. Whatever son, good thing mama's no idiot.

ie 2. One of Caleb's newest antics is to be ticklish at everything. You can't touch him, change his clothes, wash him, or change his diaper without squealing, screaming, laughing and arching. Which makes changing him next to impossible. I get annoyed, but at least he is being happy, right?

Or spontaneous animal behaviour. One minute he is talking to you or looking at you, the next he is roaring or neighing or galloping around the house. Really hard to take him seriously. And a little embarrassing when someone says hi to him and he growls back. Wow. That's my son, the bear! Or the horsie! Ay yi yi!

Straight out of the horse's mouth:

"Mama, I wanna pet Malakai" (um, son, Malakai is not an animal, but sure! You can pet him)

"Mama, you're beautiful, you a princess!" (WHERE did you learn about princesses?!?!?!)

"But mama, I wanna hit Selah. PLEEEEASE mama" (ya, the answer is still no bud)

Me: "son, cousin Kyra's coming over. Are you excited?"

Caleb: "yay! But mama, kyra not bite taleb." (no son, we can hope not :)

"Mama, DON'T TALK TO ME!" (nice try mr. attitude)

Slowly Going Crazy

Or quickly going crazy. Sigh. These last few days have been the epitome of challenging. With rain and being stuck in the house, Jonathan working overtime and hardly around, and my own personal lack of sleep... we've been in for a round of profound impatience on my part. The only thing that is getting me through the long days is going for my walks/runs in the morning and praying for an extra measure of grace and patience with my family for that day. I cannot imagine having another child right now, this is when it starts to get interesting!

Malakai is officially not a newborn anymore. He was my "newborn" for the longest. Just laid there, smiled, was content and happy, slept a lot. Over this last week, it has changed overnight. He kicks and squeals, is starting to roll, grabbing for toys, trying to sit more, babbling, crying, wanting to be held and interacted with... it is the battle I wage between loving this stage and missing the old. My little boy is growing up.

Selah is, as I write, putting all her stuffed animals and toys on the naughty chair. Telling them to "look at me" and "are you happy?" she asks in her most stern, adult-voice. She is my jeckle and hyde. One minute she will be the cutest, most cheerful girl in the room, the next she is screaming and throwing a complete fit on the floor. Sigh. If I had to rate my children on their level of difficulty, without a doubt she is my most challenging child at this point. She pushes me and battles me to the bitter end. "Are you happy?" I will ask her. "No, nnn." She'll pull away and scowl and fight, knowing she will be put on timeout for it. Some days I feel like that is all I do, battle with my daughter. Anyone who said that girls are easy as babies was dead wrong!

Caleb can be so well behaved. For him, the tantrums are a thing of the past. He understands more, I can reason with him, explain things to him. However, the attitude he has started to rear astounds me. He talks back to me like children I have judged my whole life. "Don't talk to me!" "Go away mom!" "Stop it mom" "Don't touch me!" etc. etc. etc. I spend my days with a large "excuse me?!?!?!?!" on my lips, as he sasses me like nothing I have ever heard. Oy vey. Just when they grow out of something and seem to be doing better, they adopt a new behavioural issue to deal with.

Needless to say, I am tired. I am worn down day by day. Each day feels like a battleground, and I am so weary of battle. Maybe that is why God asked us to put on the armor of God, I always viewed it as defense against the enemy. Now I wonder if it isn't as simple as defense for your day. Faith and truth and the word of God. I NEED the word of God to give me the strength I need for each day. Sigh. Well, until another day.

Midnight Mobilization

I went to bed in a state of sheer exhaustion. The effects of a long day with the children was wearing on me and washing the floor on my hands and knees was my undoing. Checking on the kids in one last attempt at 'grown-up responsibility' I finally collapsed on my bed. Allergy medication running through my veins, sending me to a place of distant awareness, I slept.

I was awakened by a squawk from my son in the wee hours of the morning. Let me clarify, that I wasn't just hearing the noise from a groggy distance, no, I was awake. I wasn't sure I understood when parents talked about waking up at your child's every sound. Probably because I was always so sleep deprived with newborns that I was never rested enough to truly wake up. Well, last night, I officially joined the ranks of alert parents everywhere.

I JOLTED awake. It was not a scream, not a sound of need or even a drawn-out cry. Rather a sound of annoyance. And every nerve in my being jumped at the sound. I sat up in bed with a start and wondered where I was and what I was doing. My mind may have been still half-asleep, but my body was not. Adrenaline coursing through my veins I knew I had been woken up for a reason. Once my sleepy thoughts caught up with the rest of me, I determined that it was Malakai and sneaked in to his room to discover the problem. He lay there, wide awake, sucking his fingers. Now, the great debate. He wasn't crying, he can easily make it through the night without eating, so what do I do? I decided to leave him to his own devices, he looked like he would just soothe himself back to sleep.

Crawling back into the warmth of my bed and trying to slow my still beating heart, I attempted to fall asleep once again. No, this is not a story of any great occurrence. Before I fell asleep, it happened to me at least two more times. I would be just starting to doze and he would give another squeak and the adrenaline would jolt me back awake. I swear, it was better than a cup of espresso! 

Needless to say, I am tired this morning. But taking it all as a sign that I am overall rested enough to be very aware of what is normal and what isn't.  And so I sit: looking at the sunshine, drinking my cup of coffee, and held captive by these three little kids I have. Enjoy your Sunday everyone!