No, I’m not talking about when I was a kid. Though I’m sure I must have had some potty training accidents way back when, I don’t remember them. I do, however, remember the incident that occurred about a month ago.
You see, I was getting ready to make some granola bars. Since we had some salted caramel on hand, I was savouring a spoonful of the stuff (please tell me I’m not the only one who does this!) and reading the ingredients out loud to my brother, who happened to be in the kitchen at the time.
But then, as I was nearing the end of my description, something horrible happened: a glob of caramel detached itself from the spoon that I was holding and plummeted towards the ground. Now, because it was the only reasonable thing to do, I tried to scream, but since I was reading, I ended up singing in an Opera-like fashion the words “sunflower seeds” (because that’s the ingredient that I was reading at the time). At the same time, I raised my left leg to save the caramel from falling onto the kitchen floor.
I don’t know what I was thinking at the time, perhaps I had myself convinced that I would lick the caramel from my pants (in my defense, it is absolutely delicious!). Anyways, my reaction elicited mockery on my brother’s part who had particular fun imitating me. Needless to say, we both burst in uncontrollable laughter in a matter of seconds.
I was down on my right knee with the damp washcloth my brother had tossed me to clean my pants when it happened: I was laughing so hard that I literally peed myself a little. Now, I could have just gotten back up, changed and moved on to other things leaving my brother in the dark about the accidental trinkle, but I didn’t. The whole situation was so ridiculous that I couldn’t not announce matter-of-factly: “well, I’m going to go change my pants now because I just peed myself”.
As you can imagine, the uncontrollable laughter started up again. Even now, as I think about it, I can feel some giggles bubbling up.
Do you have a funny anecdote you’re brave enough to share?
I mentioned in a previous post that I don’t kill spiders (or other insects for that matter). This means that we have a few resident eight-legged friends hanging around in the corners of some rooms of the house. My children have grown, hum…accustom to them? fond of them?…I’m not quite sure which word would best describe their relationship to our household spiders. Anyway, during each meal, Charles and Amélie look up at the junction between the ceiling and the walls of the dining room to find out which of the spiderweb hammock one of our resident arachnids is chilling in.
Usually, they find the spider and then go back to their meal. This morning, however, something unexpected happened. After spotting the resting spider, their attention was drawn to another spot on the ceiling. I followed their gaze and saw a spider taking a leisurely stroll on the living room ceiling. We watched it as it approached a helium-filled balloon and then, to their utter surprise, let itself fall to the ground.
With a sense of urgency in his voice, Charles immediately asked me where the spider was. Now, if you think that it was because he was afraid of the spider, think again. The simple fact is, he was concerned about its well-being. I assured him that the spider was fine and then proceeded to place it inside an overturned glass bowl. Charles came close to observe it and together we watched as it crawled inside the bowl. We got a good look at its legs and pincers and abdomen. Then, we brought it downstairs to relocate it to the garage.
As we were coming up the stairs, Charles’ boundless curiosity and scientific mind decided to hook up:
Mom, that spider was weird wasn’t it. It was walking around instead of sleeping and hiding like all the other spiders. Is it because it was a wild spider?
Haha! I guess that means all of the other spiders in the house are pets? Oh well, at least they’re low maintenance!
I don’t know how things are at your house, but around here, Charles always seems to have his most important questions either when I’m on the toilet or driving. A couple of days ago was no exception.
The conversation started out innocently enough. Including Charles, there are five kids in his daycare. He is the oldest and Amélie is the second youngest. He was telling me that he was bigger than C, who is bigger than Amélie who is bigger than L who is bigger than A. Now, given that I know that he likes his information to be precise, I decided to add that though his sister was bigger (taller) than L, she was younger than her (albeit only by a couple of months).
I. Blew. His. Mind.
This brought upon a whole new realm of possibilities in his head.
“Is that true?!?”, he exclaimed.
“Yes”, I answered.
“Ok” [pause] “when will C (who is one year younger than he is) be older than me?”, he asked.
“She’ll never be older than you”, I replied.
Wait for it…
“Why?” he asked.
“Well, because when you a baby like Elliot, she was still in her mommy’s belly”, I explained.
Boom! Mind blown. Again.
“Mama polar bears can have babies in their bellies too, right?”, he checked
(because, of course, that was the only logical jump to make in the conversation)
“Yes”, I said
“And it’s just the woman polar bears who can have babies in their bellies, right?”, he questioned.
“Yup”, I answered
“And they need the dada polar bears to help them get a baby in their bellies, right?” he continued.
I wasn’t sure I liked where this conversation was going, but I answered anyways:
“How did you and daddy make babies together?”, he asked.
“Well, um, we went in our room and closed the door”, I said, hoping it would be enough.
“Ok”, he said, apparently satisfied.
The Zootopia song Try Everything played in the background as he pondered what he had learned. After a few minutes, he was ready to pursue his interrogation.
“How does the baby come out of the mommy’s belly?”, he wondered aloud
“Well. The baby grows inside an organ called the uterus. When the baby is ready to come out, the uterus contracts and pushes the baby out”, I answered whilst crossing my fingers hoping he didn’t ask where the baby came out from.
“Does it hurt?”, he asked instead
“Well, it doesn’t hurt the baby, but it can be a little painful for some mommies, sweetheart”, I replied.
“Ok”, he said, seemingly satisfied.
Woah! These birds and the bees conversations are getting more and more intense each time we have them. I can’t help but wonder when the next one will come up and which questions will be asked!
When did your kids start asking questions about pregnancy and birth? How did you answer them?
It occurred to me recently that there are a few differences between my pre-baby conceptions of life and my post-baby reality of life. I thought it would be fun to write them out here for everyone to laugh at see.
I’m going to become pregnant really easily like my mom.
Yeah…no! It took my partner and I 18 months and countless ovulation tests before I got pregnant with Charles. Though, to be fair, becoming pregnant with Amélie and Elliot was as simple as:
Stop breastfeeding and condoms
Have one cycle
I’m going to have quick and med-free labours just like my mom.
Apparently, I didn’t learn anything when my first conception flew out the window. I had an 18 hour labour with my first complete with my waters breaking in bed at 3am, having pitocin administered at 8am, begging for an epidural by 1pm, actually getting it around 3pm and finally pushing the little bugger out after 45 minutes at 6:36pm.
Amélie’s birth went by more quickly shaving off 10 hours from my previous labour. Though I still did get an epidural.
As for Elliot’s birth (I’m working on a post for it), well, that one was quick. Though, I did still ask for an epidural.
I’m not going to bed-share with my babies.
Well, to be fair, I didn’t bed-share with Charles. Amélie, on the other hand, I slept with on the first night we came home from the hospital and a few others after that, especially during night-long feedings during growth-spurts. As for Elliot, well, I bed-shared with him at the hospital and then a few more times at home after that.
I’m not going to yell at my kids.
Hahaha, ha, HA! Yeah, have you ever had a 3 year old?
But seriously, I do try to not yell, but sometimes my bag of tools gets depleted.
I’m going to nurse until he’s 6 months old and then stop once his first tooth comes in.
What I failed to realize in this instance was that teeth can cut before the 6 month mark. And of course, Charles’ did. At 5 months, to be exact. The good thing is that since I really wanted to reach the 6 month mark, I kept nursing him and quickly got over the fear I had of nursing a toothed baby. This led me to nurse both Charles and Amélie all the way up to their first birthday. I plan to do the same with Elliot!
I’m never going to buy a minivan. Instead, I’m going to be a cool mom and have a SUV to accommodate my growing family.
I’m going to be very by-the-book.
Though I am very by-the-book (and a little over-the-top, according to some) with regards to car seat safety, I also have to consider the following with regards to the introduction of solids:
I chose BLW over purees;
I didn’t follow the 3-day rule;
I didn’t follow the suggested order of food introduction;
I even *gasp* introduced potentially allergenic food like peanut butter, eggs and salmon before the recommended ages.
However, all of these decisions were reached after doing a whole lot of research.
My kids aren’t going to get any screen time before the age of 2…
…And they’re not going to play with tablets either.
No, of course not [insert ironic tone].
I should note, though, that we have drastically reduced the time our little ones spend with tablets because Charles, in particular, would become very grumpy and irritable whenever we would allow him even a bit of time in front of a tablet.
Charles is going to start rolling over/crawling/walking/talking very quickly.
Because, duh, he’s my firstborn child so of course he’s going to be perfect!
For the record, he rolled from front to back at 5 months, from back to front at 7 months, he crawled at 10 months, walked at 12 months and at 18 months could only say “mama” and “water”.
I am going to cherish every moment.
And, to quote Katherine over at Welcome to the Nursery: “unicorns [will be] literally prancing around […] with me”.
Because, seriously, as much as I cherish motherhood in general, I can’t say I much cherish being peed on, or vomited on, or bitten, or kicked, or, or, or…
I hope you guys had fun reading these! Feel free to laugh with me and then share some of your own!
Hiya folks! Wow, I’ve away for longer than planned. Sorry ’bout that, I’ve been pretty busy with crochet and not sleeping.
To say that Elliot hasn’t been sleeping well would be an understatement. By the time he was 4 months old, he had been sleeping 12h per night 75% of the time from the age of 8 weeks. I could put him down awake in his crib for naps and bedtime, let him fall asleep on his own without a fuss and come back to a happy baby once he’d awoken.
Then we were hit with a growth spurt, a wonder week, the cutting of a first and then a second tooth and, finally, a pretty bad cold (think nasal aspirator at every diaper change and needing to be held in an angled position to be able to sleep). Needless to say, we created a monster. By the time his cold was over, my husband and I were taking turns sleeping in the rocking chair with him because the only way he would fall asleep and stay asleep was in our arms.
Enter sleep deprivation.
Now, I’m not one to make blunders all the time, but when I do happen to mess up, it’s usually pretty epic. And when I’m lacking precious hours of sleep, I’m more prone to blunders.
So this morning, I got the kids ready for daycare. Their bag was filled with a change of clothes, their snowpants, mittens…everything they needed to tackle a normal Quebec winter day.
Anyway, I got the kids in the minivan, removed the snow that had accumulated overnight and left. About 15 minutes later (halfway to daycare), I realized I didn’t remember locking the front door before leaving, but I wasn’t about to turn around just for that. So, I kept going. I was just about to unbuckle the kids when I realized that I hadn’t brought the daycare bag…with their snowsuits…on a snow-covered day. Yay me. So, I drove back home. Upon arriving home, I realized that not only had I forgotten to lock the front door, I had forgotten to close it altogether. Yeah, that’s how sleep-deprived I am.
So, I decided it was a better idea to stay home with the kids than to risk driving another hour just to get the kids to daycare.
We made the most of the day. The kids helped me pick up the toys that were littering the floor. Then, my daughter washed the washroom sinks while Charles vacuumed the floors. I entertained Elliot while I folded some laundry and helped the other two with their tasks. Once the baby was down for his nap, we rocked some shortbread cookies and had some subs delivered for lunch. While Amélie was down for her nap, I went to see Elliot to try to prolong his nap. After 15 minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get him to fall back asleep, I walked in on the 4 year-old who decided to take it upon himself of doing some dishes to help me out. I swear, that kid makes my heart melt just as much as induces headaches with his constant stream of “whys”.
All in all, I really can’t complain. My morning may have started off shaky, but the quality-time I got to spend with the kids was worth it.
I was filling the tub for Amélie’s bath and Charles was bent over trying as hard as he could to touch the rising water with his hand. When he finally succeeded, he took his index finger out of the water, showed me that it was wet and announced proudly: