what I have learned this year

This little man of mine. He kills me. He is so damn naughty. He's a trickster, a fox. He runs across the street after I have screamed his name over and over again. He locks himself in the car, in the bathroom when he gets the change. He gets naked in public. He kisses the girls. He wants us to call him "Flash". I am mad over him. He makes me weak. Amidst the shocking behaviours he is pure love. Plays with my hair when I hold him. He asks for the "sleepy song" every night. Kisses me on the lips for a moment too long. He crushes my parenting skills. Unplugs me. And my ever growing Miss. Taller and stronger than I could ever imagine. She is determined, feisty, demanding, inquisitive, slow to warm up, private and bossy. She leads her brother in play, tells him what to do and say (and he does it, hasn't refused her yet). She takes forever. Her pace is a snail's compared to my Tasmanian Devil speed. I have to push her out the door, remind her to get dressed 99 times before it gets done. She doesn't stop moving and takes an hour to settle to bed. Her hair is a wild nest every morning. And she loves life, finds joy in the smallest things. Remembers everything, who gave her what, what I said. She collects trinkets and rocks and wants to be a veterinarian. And when we drive, we talk about life and death. They tell me when I have said too much, gone a little too far. They ask about my dad. They watch me go crazy when stressed, then watch me try settle down next. And then we all hug, forgiveness and comfort after the storm always brings me home, grounds me. What a gift. Too live life in front of little curious eyes that are watching, learning and doing as you do. I am trying to be a better person for them. Lucky world.

2014

On February 15, 2014 we had a major shift in our journey. Things stopped for awhile. C, a very experienced skier, had an accident a few runs into his day, and fractured his C1 & C2. I was sleeping with the kids while our friend was holding his helmet, holding him still. Talking, laughing, reassuring, staying positive. Word got down the hill and the rescue team came soon enough, strapped him on a back board and skied him down the hill. We all probably should have avoided that weekend. Looking back each family had reasons to turn around. I had to work on Monday, others forgot important medical tools, another who recently gave birth had incredibly low blood pressure... But as we do we made the weekend happen. Who would ever have known? Only a broken neck was the result of that fall. Only a broken neck?? For some crazy reason, he was lucky and things cracked in the best way possible. Breathing was not restricted. Legs still move. He didn't die. In the end, what transpired was 6 months of intense healing, peppered with panic and anxiety, curbed by love and community. C had to wear a medieval contraption for 3 months straight. The device was drilled in to his head. He had to sleep sitting up. Drink from a straw. The other details, all too personal involved humility and grace. I didn't take any pictures last year of our little family. We were in survival mode. I forgot to book them in to activities for example. I moved us in to a new house. People were there for us. Random people I didn't even know thought of us, left food in door step. People took the kids for me to have a break. I cried, I drank. I talked about the situation a lot. And we got through it. He healed, perfectly in my opinion. "Has he changed?" - this is the most frequent question I have been asked since last year. Not really... But I didn't want him to change. And I was offended by the question. But there has been a shit tonne of reflection and of course, the gratitude is overwhelming some times. A year and a half later and things are back to normal. Underlying our normal is a deeper sense of belonging and commitment. I really want this family to work. And I continue to do all that I can to listen and respect him and raise our kids together. It's still fucking hard. Every day is a challenge and I am tired and underwhelmed. But a witnessed a lot of love last year and I am eternally grateful for that.

Kindergarten

K started Kindergarten. A big decision that most were oppossed to. Is she too young, too tired, not ready. Am I setting her up for failure, will she struggle. I talked to a lot of moms about this. It consumed my summer. But we found a place with small class sizes, a daycare attached, A can go too. One more year to try it out. Repeat her if necessary, don't stress. She will do fine. I had a parent teacher interview all ready and they asked what her strenghts were. I described her as compassionate, imaginative. A great, caring sister. Crafty. Clumsy yet daring. It was hard to carry on my description of her though as I haven't figured her out quite yet. She still surprises me every day. Ever changing girl. She has taken to jumping off the highest level at the park. She is going to break her leg soon. I can't control her. She has no fear of me. I threaten spanking and really want to do it sometimes. I won't though because I know I will regret it. But the yelling and threats don't work and it amazes me, It amazes me how my attempts to instill fear in her are fruitless. I try hard to be cool and calm, but her defiance and impulse to do the opposite to what I ask is overwhelming. Is it because she is 4? Or is she desensitized to me craziness? She has two people that she makes with her fingers. Every time I ask what their names are, it changes. Luca, Lilcia, Moca and Mica, Taniy and Lisa. She thinks it is hysterical when I make my fingers act out a story and we often make finger stories up in the car. The more I make them get hurt the more she laughs. She also takes to a guy that lives in my head. Super weird and I am not crazy, but Otto is ever present. I can't explain it easily. She likes her alone time. When there are a bunch of family around, she often disapears off with one or two people or alone. I will find her playing on her own in someones room or outside. She will be wearing a white formal dress and skateboarding around the cresent. She has no need to be the centre of attention. She speaks for her brother. I ask him questions and she answers for him, pretending to be him. She says: A and I want to make jello. A and I want to have a bath with bubbles. A and me need a drink. I love it. Her eyes are brown. The right is one half a shade lighter. Her body is strong and flexible. She has a six pack and the cutest, round bum I have ever seen. I love her.

Almost 2.

A turns 2 next week. My sweet boy: you are a hand full. You are moving from the moment you wake, until the moment you settle down for the night. He wakes every morning next to me, in his crib, he stands up and states MUM. And I grab him and pull him close, I sniff his ears and he smiles and laughs. We lay nose to nose and blink our eyes at eachother. And then he is free. Running, climbing, screeching, laughing. Fears only bugs. Screams if they buzz close to his ears. He accidently caught one in his fist this summer and the shrill cries from his mouth along with K's total panic has created an opposition to even stepping foot in the backyard. "A and me don't like the angry bee Mama". He gets along with all the kids at daycare. I sense they like him. He has a twinkle in his eye and a naughty grin. Oodles of personality. He is defiant and loud. Particular about where he sits. Doesn't want anyone to touch me if he is in my arms. Refuses affection from anyone who pushes it on him. He's nuts. He climbed up on the dining room table the other day as I am trying to read the paper. He smiles then spits his chewed up piece of bacon in to my coffee. SICK! DISGUSTING! The two break in to fits of giggles. Proud of eachother for successfully harrassing me. He copies everything his sister does. Pushes, hits, pinches and bites her too. She tells on him each time, A HIT ME MAMA! A PINCHED MY BACK. He runs in to the street and down the paths of others houses. Pets all the dogs he sees. He says hello to anyone who walks by, or passes us while we are driving. He throws things out the open window and repeats everything we ask him to say. Time outs work. He will say "SOWWY" when prompted. He is concerned when others are hurting and gentle in return... What awaits us next? Who will you become?

is this it?

We have had a change in routine. The kids are now in a daycare. It was a painful decision and I am still unsure how I feel about it. The first week was hell. Out the door ten minutes early. A longer drive. Crying, clingy babies. Listening to A scream as I run to the car. K doesn't want to go back. Weird stories that don't make sense to me. Did you sleep today. Yes Mama, can I stay up? (previous meltdown suggests otherwise). Are you lying? No, Mama. I ask the daycare staff and one says she slept 20 minutes, the other says "Kate had good sleep, over an hour!". WTF?I don't know who to believe. Is this it... letting them go and never knowing what they are really up to through out the day. I am guessing that this is it.

a strong heart.

Our best friends newborn baby had a heart attack last night. She was born with a heart issue; backwards, holes, leaky and weak. They knew that she was going to be born ill. I was suppossed to meet her today. But instead, she is on life support. We don't know what will happen or the prognosis or how our friends are coping. Sweet Baby G, blonde hair, big eyes and breathing deeply is holding us all together. Tonight our girl friends spoke, and wept and told eachother we loved one another. Three of them are also expecting this year. I played with my babies today, held them longer, hugged them tighter. I cried while they played together and kissed each other good night. This life is harder than I ever imagined. Three of my 75 year old mothers friends lost their husbands this year. To suicide, heart failure and cancer. Three woman left alone. My mother lost her mother at 6, father at 18, husband at 50 and brother at 65. How do I remember how meaningful moments are? Who do I pledge to that I promise to be grateful and patient and aware. How do I show my children that this life is the only chance we get to love fully and live whole heartedly. Everything is going by too fast and tragedy is stricking too close. It can happen to us. It will happen to us. Take this moment to remember and focus on the bigger picture- visualize your values and what you wish to represent. Learn from and educate others. Love. Share. Help. Connect. We are not in this alone.

the urge

In supporting a friend who is experiencing post partum anxiety I realized that I too, had it. I remember hiking in Maui, 2 months post c-section, up a trail less travelled. Rain threatening to wash us away. We found the trail in the "off the beaten path" guide book, it said "off the 15 mile marker, on the road to Hana, there is a tree and a broken fence... take the path on the right and watch your step". I wasn't in for it. All I could picture was falling flat with A in the Baby bjorn in front of me... face down on a rock. Head smashed in, his brain oozing from his empty eye sockets. Dead in my arms. That was all I could think of. No wonder we had some heavy conversations later that evening about our fundamental differences. Why he is so adventurous and I, not up for any thing, was always holding things back. The generalizations were heart breaking. There was no opportunity to self reflect and OWN my gritty intrusive thoughts. I couldn't explain the possibility of not feeling mentally well. I was too in it. Recently, I was faciliating a dialogue between other mothers, support people and service providers about post partum depression and anxiety. You see, this is my job; to educate and empower women. To offer women a safe place to express themselves and not feel judged. While another lovely soul gifted her story to us; a sad tale of isolation and panic and suffering solitude... I realized then that I too, was a victim of out of control hormones and dysfunctional neurotransmitters. It wasn't me who was resisting or hesitating. It wasn't me who was holding us back. It's not my fault. Don't judge me, man. My scars not healed. I haven't slept. I'm tired. Would it kill you to be kind and attempt to understand. In our lesson for the women that are hurting and worried about their capabilites as mothers, a counsellor described "intrusive thoughts". They are the untold images that people harbour in fear: "Intrusive thoughts are unwelcome involuntary thoughts, images, or unpleasant ideas that may become obsessions, are upsetting or distressing, and can be difficult to manage or eliminate"- Wikipedia What was interesting about the explaination we heard, was that what often causes the anxiety associated with intrusive thoughts... is the urge to actually do it. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm better now. But I still have these thoughts. At times about car accidents. Or details about a loved one dying. About cheating and the awful aftermath. But mostly it's about saying something inappropriate. You know what I am talking about. For example, today I was in a meeting; a long drawn out, complex and draining meeting. And I confess that during the meeting, in moments of disconnect- I looked around the room and thought about how alike each person resembled a dog. Bulldog, chiguagua, basset hound, pincher, boxer, etc etc. Enter anxiety. These thoughts are now accompanied by the concern that I may yell it out. "Hey You! You look a basset hound! Your fat chin and droppy cheeks make you look exactly like a b.hound!". Yikes. I worry that I will swear like I have tourette syndrome when I am mad. I wonder how a man would react if I told him I was thinking about fucking him. I think I could punch someone's face in if I ever got in to a fender bender. The possibilities, or the option to actually go ahead with the thought at times is exciting, and other times, my heart races and I am scared I have no control over the impulse to feed the urge. Writing this is already causing me anxiety. What if I write something I am really thinking? I better stop now.