Mommy, I want…

I have heard this phrase approximately 8 million times this weekend.  We are officially in the selfish, whiney phase.  R wants what she wants and she wants it loud.  She also does a jumpy, hand-flappy thing while she is whining and demanding things like her sister’s spoon, a different cup, a movie, or a specific coat.  She also whines for help, or for no help at all (it is anyone’s guess which is will be at any given time).  I get it right about 50% of the time.  She has figured out how to get what she wants and how to play me.  Yes, me.  The person who said she would be the tough mom and who had all these games figured out.  Turns out I am the softy in this house.  All R has to say is “I’m hungry” when she is already supposed to be in bed and I am jumping up to get apple slices.  I know she isn’t hungry, but what if she is?  I know she only wants to stay up later but I can’t help it.  Tonight, as she sits in the next room kicking the wall and crying for food, I am only standing my ground because mere minutes ago she was eating her cheesy noodles and drinking her milk before we brushed teeth and she got in bed.

I have started to explain that she doesn’t always get things just because she wants them and mama has to say no sometimes.  I have always been ok with the principle of saying no, but her negotiation and bribery skills are improving every day.  I am already saving for law school.  She needs to hear no and I am doing my best to not indulge her all the time but I am my own worst enemy and she is my little baby.  I don’t want an entitled little brat making life hell for her teachers in the future so I am going to keep on keeping on.  Give me strength!  Tonight, my two friends Merlot and Crunchie Bar are giving me the power to muddle through this evening’s trials and tribulations.  What’s your standby source of strength?  Keep it legal people!

Ask the Real Mom Lady: Public Parenting Edition

Dear Real Mom Lady,

I took my son to a coffee and play place the other day.  I was hoping for a somewhat relaxing experience where my son could play, I could get out of the house without too much effort and planning and we could have some one on one time.  When we got there, it quickly became evident that this wasn’t going to happen.  It seemed that other parents were perfectly content to just let their kids run wild, act like little terrors and expected other strangers to parent their offspring.  Other people were literally sitting right next to their devil spawn children, checking their iPhones and ignoring the shenanigans that were taking place right next to them.  I am often at a loss in these situations and would appreciate some advice on how I could handle these situations without coming off too ‘holier than thou’ or too bitchy.  Any suggestions?

Sincerely,

Not Your Mom

 

Dear NYM,

I hear you and I feel your pain.  People in those places are either sending shade your way for any of Jr’s well-meaning yet possibly overly aggressive attempts at play or they are ignoring their own child’s demonic and violent ‘playing’.  In any of these instances you can employ any of the following phrases or techniques:

• “Go Fuck Yourself”
• “Your child is a monster, please keep him/her away from my kid”
• “Oh, your son/daughter is so cute but could you please help me pry his/her hands out of my child’s hair? Thankyousomuch!”
• Stand up in the middle of the place and ask everybody and nobody “Is anyone else seeing this?  Bueller?  Bueller?”
• Pick up the offensive child and walk him or her around to other parents asking “is this your child?  Is this your child?”
• If your own kid happens to be somewhat oversized and beefy like mine was at one point, let him or her kick the other kid’s ass.  You know you want to.  Just look the other way.  That is the thing to do, apparently.

Good luck!

Sincerely,

RML

 

Dear Real Mom Lady,

I am having a hard time keeping up appearances lately.  I have two young kids, I am always busy and I am having a hard time taking care of myself.  All of my friends seem to have it all together.  They have clothes that fit and seem to be clean.  They shower and do their hair and makeup.  I can barely change out of my PJs by noon.  How can I keep up?

Sincerely,

Tired and Slightly Rank

 

Dear T and SR,

First of all, you can’t keep up, unless you want to start popping your kid’s Ritalin.  These women are surely on drugs or they have remortgaged their houses to be able to afford full time help that they are keeping secret.  Believe me, at certain points in your life it is just normal to be in your PJs until noon.  These times are called University and Motherhood.  What is the point of changing in to real clothes if you are just going to have to change out of them anyways when you eventually crawl back in to bed.  Here are some tips:

Sleep in your clothes.  Spray yourself with Febreeze when you wake up to freshen your outfit.  Wipe your pits with a damp cloth and spray on some perfume.  This is called a ‘whores bath’ which is ironic because no one who employs this method is actually getting laid.

Carry large sunglasses with you everywhere.  This will cover at least half of your face if you have no time for makeup and then you can shove them back on your head to restrain your hair as an accessory.  No need to wash and/or brush your hair.  Use two pairs at the same time if necessary.

Dry shampoo is amazeballs and you can use it days and days in a row and not have to shower.  You can also powder your kid’s bum with it.  Not really, but imagine if you could!

Instead of washing your clothes, use baby wipes to clean off any crust that might accumulate.  You can do this while waiting at a stop light or in the grocery store.  Good lighting.  This will allow you to go weeks without having to do any laundry.

Chew gum.  You won’t have to brush your teeth and it will help relieve pent up stress.  I am a jaw clencher – I should know.

Finally, when you feel put out or inferior because your friends seem to have it all together and you feel like a tired, frazzled slob, just give yourself a break.  Have a KitKat and try to squeeze in a nap.  In your clothes of course.

Sincerely,

RML

Sexy Time

No, this is not an X rated post.  This is about some disturbing trends in tween-ville that I find disturbing and that I think you should know about so you can join me in my rage:

1.  Pole dancing classes for kids.  For real.  There is a studio in BC that is getting some serious attention for offering a pole dancing class for children.  There is a child as young as five that is registered to take part.  If I weren’t so scared of inappropriate sexual innuendo I would make a joke about gagging!  The woman offering the classes maintains that this class is all about upper body fitness and flexibility and that it has nothing to do with teaching sexually provocative moves.  Sure, except that the apparatus you are using to teach the class is meant for naked women to climb up and down on, showing their naughty bits and it is usually covered in vaseline.  In reading up on this I discovered that there are actually pole dancing competitions in Russia where children as young as 7 are allowed to take part.  Really?

2.  Lingerie stores offering clothing for tween girls.  Again, for real.  Places like Victoria’s Secret and La Senza both have clothing lines for young girls.  The line from VS is called Pink.  Does anyone else think ‘vagina’ when they hear that?  I really don’t think it is a good idea for 11 year olds to be buying off-the-shoulder t-shirts next to a mannequin wearing a g-string and garter belts.  This sends a mixed message don’t you think?  Like, “hey, buy this other stuff and wear it to entice boys and be sexy”.  This is not something young girls should feel compelled and/or pressured to do.

3.  Blow job parties and sex bracelets.  These are real things.  Kids as young as 11 and 12 are attending BJ parties in basements where the boy who has the most colours of lipstick on his pre-pubescent junk wins.  Sex bracelets (my term) are those old jelly bracelets we used to wear in the 90s but now they are color coded to indicate which type of sexual favor you have given to boys.  Kids are talking in code with their jewelry and they are talking dirty!

4.  Sexting.

5.  Online sex chatting.

6.  Bratz dolls.  I freaking hate those things.

I could go on.  My point is that I am afraid for my daughters as they grow up in this increasingly scary world.  I believe that kids should stay kids as long as possible because once they see and learn about certain things they can never un-see and unlearn them.  We are in a world that sends such mixed messages:  Be a strong and independent woman or girl but trade on your looks and sexual prowess in order to be desirable.  Be attractive – this is a must, but make sure you are offended if someone comments on your looks.  Have a perfect body but don’t put too much emphasis on it.  Flaunt your body.  Don’t flaunt your body.  How are my girls supposed to navigate all these conflicting messages and believe me when I say that they is perfect just the way they are?  How are they supposed to believe that in order to have friends and be popular they doesn’t have to flash their boobs online or be bitchy to other girls?  I strongly believe that I will be a present parent who instills good values, is strict, fair and a good role model.  I am lucky enough to be well-equipped and informed about all the risks out there.  I know lots of amazing parents who still found their kids facing incredible challenges with body image, confidence and sexual maturity.  I was one of those kids, and my parents were and are incredible.  What chance do I have?

This all makes me very pissed.  It makes me angry about ulterior motives of big business, shady marketing and companies with no moral compass and social conscience.  I shouldn’t have to be shielding my children from land mines like this as they grows up.  What makes me more incredulous is the fact that there are a lot of people out there walking around thinking that things like pole dancing for kids and clothes from lingerie stores are no big deal and they are just for fun.  They really believe that these things are innocuous and harmless.  They believe the bullcrap that is fed to them.  Now THAT is scary.  I do not believe that BS and my kids will not be signing up for classes.

Girls have it tough and struggles start at a very young age.  They don’t need any more ridiculous things to avoid and be wary of.  Just stop people!  Just stop!  Play my little ponies, have tea parties, play a sport, go play outside (in sensible clothes), spend time with your families and just be KIDS!

End Rant.

This may or may not make any sense. You’ve been warned.

My toddler told me the other day that she hated me.  That sucked.  She also told me a few days before that that I was her best friend.  She is a little package of contradictions these days.  One of the challenges of being back at work is having to try to find a place to park your kids during the ten or so hours that you are gone during the day.  I have been lucky enough to find an amazing woman who feeds them good food, does fun activities and genuuinely loves them.  She is strict, keeps them on a schedule and is very flexible and agreeable.  She also happens to live a block and a half away.  This is all good.  What sucks is that my kids are being raised by another woman and are surrounded by kids that may or may not act the way I would want my kids to act.  So, without going in to too many details about the personal issues of the other kids in the day home, R has come home with a few interesting new phrases and quirks. 

Example number one:  We were eating dinner and having the normal conversations about eating a few more bites and ‘no you will not get a treat if you keep fighting ‘ etc.  In the middle of it all, R turns to me and says in a solemn voice:  “Mom, I am starting to die”.  This struck me as odd.  You can imagine why.  We have never really talked about death with her and this came out of nowhere.  She repeated versions of this a few times and then this gem came out:  “Mom, I am so sad.  Daddy’s mom died”.  Well, no she didn’t.  You just saw her a few weeks ago.  She also has said things like she is “stopping to breathe” and that she is playing the “dead game”.  Ummmm.  I began to get a bit freaked out. 

I talked to the day home lady and she confirmed that this wasn’t some morbid pre-school game they were playing after lunch and before naps.  There have indeed been a few incidents where an older kid has let loose with some cray cray musings during rage filled tantrums.  I was all at once relieved to hear the reason for all this nuttiness but also pretty concerned because I am not sure I want her around this poor kid.  Lovely day home lady has assured me that if this happens again that the older kid will be asked to go elsewhere.  Too bad for him, but a relief for us.  Being a teacher, I know where these things can go and I don’t want my kids to be around in the unlikely, yet scary, event that something happens. 

In other news, today is my b-day and I had a lovely weekend with some amazing friends I have missed for a long time.  Our kids were amazing and I swear I ate like it was my job.  I had lots of red wine, got to do some shopping and stayed up to unreasonable hours of the early morning.  I am exhausted which is why most of this post might sound a bit nutty.

Stay tuned for another installment of Ask the REAL MOM Lady.  Stripper poles and lingerie for tweens will be discussed.  And by discussed I mean lampooned.  People are stupid.

Happy Turkey Day!

Up here in the frozen north of Canada, it is Thanksgiving Weekend.  So, in truly unoriginal style I am going to do a post about those things for which I am thankful…

I am thankful for M.  He is funny, strong, kind, and patient.  I know that I annoy myself sometimes, so I can only imagine how much I must annoy him and yet he keeps on loving me.  He is a fantastic father, provider and husband.  I miss him when he isn’t here and I know I must love him because even when I am angry with him I often feel badly that he is sad because I am angry… twisted, but true.  I even love him when he is slurping and making mouth noises.  

I am thankful for R.  My first baby.  I am thankful for her dimple chin, her cute bum and her precocious sense of humour.  She told me the other day that I am her best friend.  I almost died.  I love it when she sings off key, tells jokes, dances with her twisty mouth and rolled back eyes, ‘reads’ stories aloud and when she bounds across the room to see me.  I am thankful that she is happy and healthy, smart and funny, stubborn and willful.  She is amazeballs.  

I am thankful for K.  She is cute in a bottle.  I have said to many that her body and stance often remind me of John Goodman.  All belly and butt.  I can’t get enough.  If biting her wouldn’t hurt I would be taking nips of her all day long.  I love that she growls with a huge open mouthed smile upon entering a room, that she is full of beans and moves non-stop.  I love that she gives kisses with tongue, that she teethes without complaint (Thank God), that she dances like Stevie Wonder and that she sings along with songs in the car.  She is more in tune than her older sister…  I love that she has a generous spirit and forgives her older sister a bonk or two.  I love her stubborn spirit as well.  

I am thankful for my family, near and far.  I am surrounded by love and support.  Life isn’t easy even when it is going well.  There are daily trials and tribulations to overcome and it is all the more palatable when you can call someone and bitch and moan.  I am thankful for buddy passes, family visits, phone plans and emails.  I am one lucky lady.  

I am also thankful for amazing friends who often take the place of family when no family is near.  I have wonderful girlfriends who commiserate with the best of them and who are constant sources of laughter and debauchery.  

My last two posts were pretty self-indulgent and whiney – believe me, I know.  So, I thought I would post something a bit more heartwarming and cheerful.  Life is good.  So is pie.  And turkey.  Oh God, now I am drooling on my computer…  gotta go!  

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

Week 2 Going On Week 3

I am so tired.  So so so tired.  I have spent most of the weekend being a vegetable and taking naps whenever I can.  I had a three hour nap on Saturday and a one hour nap today.  And you know what?  The week wasn’t that bad!  My in-laws were staying with us for part of the week and generally made my life easier by entertaining kids, ordering us yummy food and helping clean up and do various chores.  M was off for a few days and got to have a nice visit with his parents which was great.  Of course the kids loved having them here as well so all in all, in-law visit = good. 

School is going to be ok.  I think, actually I am pretty sure, my body is in shock at getting up at the butt crack of dawn and going to work for a million hours and then coming home to be mom/wife.  As soon as my body realizes that this new routine isn’t a joke I think the exhaustion will lessen and I will be able to function at a level somewhat better than a zombie. 

School has brought up the usual confict of emotions in me where I feel aghast at certain parenting styles (or lack thereof) and equally impressed at how present and involved other parents can be.  So, this begs the questions about parenting styles.  I would like to open this up to debate.  I have heard about polar opposite styles such as Free-Range Parenting and Tiger Mother Parenting as well as such ‘Blossoming’ trends as Attachment Parenting and the like (if you get that reference you rock).  There are also such gems as Helicopter Parenting and then just plain old parenting by feel and there is the all too common style of ‘neglect’.  Choose your poison!  Where do you fall in the spectrum?  Do you feel the need to label?  How did you come across your style?  Did you follow in your parents’ footsteps or did you veer away from their example.  Was your parenting style a result of research or advice from friends?

The reason I ask is because we are in a climate of almost too much information.  Every time something new comes up I often get that panicky feeling of not knowing enough and “maybe I should be doing that!”.  I then do a bit of frantic internet research and inevitably revert to what I was already doing.  Very rarely does something come up that makes me question my philosophy in general.  We tell each other everything all the time and most of the time I think that is fantastic.  Sometimes, not so much.  I am usually the queen of TMI and this whole blog was based on the idea of “sharing is caring” and that the more we talk and support one another as moms the stronger we will be.  I might be taking a step back from that …  well, probably not.  But, I am open to questioning my methods.  When I heard of ‘elimination communication’ (when you read your baby’s signals and get them to the potty on time from almost infancy in order to eliminate the use of diapers) I thought to myself initially that I should be able to do that and therefore should implement it immediately.  Then I realized that in no way shape or form would that fit in to my lifestyle and therefore it was not for me or my family.  Diapers it is!  TMI!  I almost need to turn my mommy radar off and stop questioning myself all the time!  But I can’t!

I think that as I have grown in to adulthood and mommyhood there has been a different marketing and information machine for every stage of my life.  When I was in my late teens and early 20s it was MTV or Much Music and Fashion Television that had me enthralled.  Then TLC was born and I was hooked!  Trading Spaces – home decor porn for the early 20s do-it-yourself-ers.  Say Yes To The Dress and a million other wedding shows for my mid-20s.  Baby Story, I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant and John and Kate Plus 8 for my fertile and pregnancy years.  Now, it is stuff like Supernanny that has me hooked.  How do other people parent?  What am I missing?  How should I be doing things? 

I guess my MO should be to continue to question but take the information with a grain of salt – especially if the source is TLC or some crazed looking parent at school with a demon-spawn child.  Not that there are any of those in my school. 

How did you and your partners develop your parenting philosophy?

I survived!

Well.  Today marks the end of my first official week back at work with students and the whole shebang.  I am still alive and so are my kids.  My house is still standing and is actually somewhat clean and tidy.  My eldest daughter was only sent to bed early three of the four nights that I worked because of a tantrum and she is warming up to the idea of being back in the dayhome.  When I picked her up today she actually said “I had so much fun at Z’s house today, Mom!”.  This was better than hearing about her being punched in the face earlier this week.  She wasn’t innocent – don’t worry.  She’s not being picked on for all you concerned parties out there.  Still, I wanted to punch the other kid in the face… 

So how come I feel like I am barely hanging on by my fingertips?  Maybe because I am.  I am exhausted beyond belief at the end of each day.  I am trying desperately to spend some quality time with the girls when we finally get home but they are both so wound up/exhausted by being at the dayhome all day that we only get about an hour and a half of good play time and snuggles in before someone starts whining or throwing a shit fit over something like an errant red pepper in her dinner, brushing her teeth and the texture of her replacement duvet because her other one is in the dryer.  R kept insisting that her cover was indeed dry and ‘not wet mama… sob, sob, sob…”  I actually had to lie down on my bed while she was on the potty to have my own tearful moment because I was so tired and had NO energy for any more histrionics.  K has been a bit more cooperative and has only been a bit tearful at the drop off to the dayhome.  That also makes me sad though because she commands so much less attention and time that I fear she is getting swept under the rug because she is an ‘easy baby’.  FML. 

All that being said, I know I have a lot to be grateful for and I am trying to look on the bright side.  I have a great class of kids.  My dayhome lady is lovely.  My husband is super helpful and is a veritable Mr Mom.  He can do it all ladies – mostly better than I can.  And he looks good in jeans.  My teaching partner is a good friend and also has a little one at home so we understand each other in that respect.  All this is good.  I guess I am still in shock that this week wasn’t just for fun.  Instead, this is my new normal and I am just pissed off about it.  I can make the most of it.  My family can have a good life this way.  I know all this – but I want something else.  I want flexibility and time to myself for my family.  I love teaching, but that isn’t all I love.  I love my girls.  Even when they are throwing shit fits.  Maybe not so much when they are throwing actual shit… but that is a different post altogether. 

Kudos to all you working mamas out there and to those mamas who work at home as a mom and as a professional.  Have a drink with me tonight.  I’m gonna have a few…

Long Time, No Blog

So, I guess it’s been a while since I last posted here.  This doesn’t bode well for the next few months since I have just started back to work teaching as of yesterday.  More on that later…

Since my last post about K’s Birth Day we celebrated her turning one.  I made these:

K wore this and looked super adorable:

My mom came to visit for about 5 days and we went on a few outings.  We went to Elbow Falls and played in the rocky water’s edge and had a yummy picnic.  As well, we went to Reader’s Rock Garden here in Calgary and walked around enjoying the beautiful grounds and had lunch. 

I love when my mom visits!  R totally gets in to the novelty of having another adult in the house who is somewhat wrapped around her little finger!  R wants ‘gwamma’ to do everything – brush her teeth, put on her PJ’s, read all the books, play all the games and do all the puzzles.  It sure gave me a break before this crazy week of back to work!  Grandma D really is the bomb.  I love houseguests that you don’t have to impress!  I am lucky to have a mother and a mother-in-law like that.  I do a house clean just to be a good hostess before they come, not because I think they are going to judge me.  They help with the kids and chores and it makes for a lovely visit.  Please come back!  Mom?  L?  Are you reading this?  Come BAAAAACK!!!! 

So.  Back to work.  It sucks.  I have the girls at a day home.  The provider is a lovely woman who looked after R for 8 months when I went back to work last time when R was 1 and I was alrerady preggers with K!  This lady is lovely, warm, strict and less than 5 minutes from my house.  In other words:  Perfect.  Still, I can’t help but shake the feeling that I didn’t have kids for someone else to raise them.  When school really gets going next week the girls will be with her most days from about 7 am to about 4 or 4:30 every day.  I might get to see them for a few hours in the evening for baths, fights at dinner (FML) and maybe a late evening trip to the park but not likely.  R was always a ‘late to bed’ girl but K sure isn’t.  7:30 is pushing it so I really have to get my cuddles in before she freaks out and needs her bed!  My heart is breaking a little each day and I am going to have to get used to this new reality we have in store for us.  I am scared for the state of my house (I give it two weeks until we are living in a shambles and need an intervention)  and the state of my kids!  And my heart!

I feel passionately about my job.  I love teaching and I have a great teaching partner this year.  There are many reasons for me to be happy about going back to work.  A dual income household will be a nice change!  Blah blah blah.  Nothing compares to being the one to see your kids reach new milestones instead of having your lovely day home woman tell you about them.  Moulding other peoples’ kids all day and having no energy to do the same for my own precious babies just doesn’t seem like an appropriate payoff. 

Sorry to be such a downer…  Maybe all you other working moms out there can shed some light on this one.  How do you juggle it all?  Pills?  Booze?  Hired help? 

I’ll update again on this soon…  I think I can do it.  I think I can I think I can I think I can……

A year ago today…

I was in the hospital having just given birth to my second daughter, K.  As we celebrated her birthday today I was experiencing a mix of emotions ranging from happiness that she is indeed growing up happy and healthy to a kind of sadness that time is passing by so quickly.  A year ago she was a tiny lump of awesome in my belly, then vagina, then arms and now she is a huge package of walking, ‘talking’, laughing joy.  Here is her birth story:

Let me preface this story by saying that in the weeks prior to giving birth to K my Dr and I agreed on a plan.  Because she worked only certain days on call in the hospital, and we both wanted her to be the Dr to deliver the baby she had helped me care for, we decided that I would give birth on the 10th.  I wasn’t going to be induced or anything, I was just going to make it happen.  I know this sounds ridiculous, but it happened with my first so I thought I could do it again.  Raspberry leaf tea and unfortunate sex made R come on the planned date as agreed upon with the same Dr so I thought I could do it again.  I drank the tea but couldn’t make my husband ‘do that’ again because it was just too much to ask but we did put together a shelf together so that is the same thing.  Lo and behold, 4 am came around (same time as R started her process less than 2 years prior) and I was waking up with some lower abdominal pain. 

I went to the bathroom, tried to poop, but that wasn’t it and so I thought, ‘hey, maybe I am in labour’.  My labour tends to progress pretty quickly so I woke M up and said that things might be starting to happen and he chuckled because it actually was happening on the day I predicted.  I was a bit bummed because if my labour this time went as fast or faster as the one before, which I thought was likely, I was going to miss my Dr’s shift by a few hours as she didn’t work until the evening.  Also, my mom was flying in that morning at 10:30 and she would most likely miss it too.  Oh well, she was planning to be at home for R and not in the room like she had been the time before, so that was ok. 

Anyhoo – back to the pain.  For the first 45 minutes or so it was just pain, nothing too unbearable but we called M’s aunt to come look after R.  Her husband answered the phone at 4:45am and said something like ‘so you’ll call us in a few hours when you need us?’.  I said, ‘no, come now.  I go fast’.  Aunt V indeed made it over as I was in the shower and she got some instructions from M.  I got dressed, put some makeup on (why?) and came down to say hi to V.  I had to pause for contractions now and rock through them, but nothing too horrible.  Maybe a 5 on a scale from 1-10.  M had made me toast and a nectarine for breakfast which I knew I should eat but had a hard time choking down.  As we left the house and drove down our street I realized I had forgotten my wallet – so we did a U turn which sucked and got the goods, and sped off to the hospital.  Contractions were becoming increasingly painful and required some good breathing and eye closing to get through them in the car, but I could walk to the maternity ward so it couldn’t have been that bad…

We got checked in and I was about 2 cm when I was examined the first time and I asked to get in to the shower as that is what I had enjoyed last time.  There wasn’t a good chair to sit on so M placed a metal chair in the shower stall for me to sit on.  I was having back labour this time which was new so I spent a few hours in the shower alternating between sitting on the chair and facing the wall with my back to the shower and rocking to bring the baby down.  As I stood, I could literally feel my muscles clenching and pushing the baby down little by little.  M asked me around this time what my pain was at on the scale and I said about a 9.  It was starting to hurt like a mother and I was starting to make some pretty good groaning noises.  With R I had used anitnox (the lovely tanks of gas that just help you relax between contractions) but this time I was trying to use no pain meds to get me through it.  M had to pause to make a call to our good friend P so she could pick up my mom.  P is an exuberant person and clued in to the fact that M was calling from the shower in the hospital and I could hear her over the shower noise and through the phone which was not on speaker express her excitement.  It was a pleasant break from my pain which was now at a 10.  My water hadn’t broken yet, but after a few hours in the shower the nurses thought I should be checked again. 

I dried off and got checked and was at about 7 cm and did some more breathing and moaning on my side in the fetal position.  I was told I could get back in to the shower but knew I couldn’t move as this is the time they call ‘transitioning’ when you feel like your body is about to rip in half and you might puke while it happens.  At this time, I started to sound like a bleating lamb but was reassured by everyone that I was doing well and M thought so too.  I was in the zone, and every touch and sound was a danger to shaking me from that precious place.  I thought I had been at a 10 given what I remembered from last time, but I think I was now at a 12.  It fucking hurt.  I started to feel a bit of an urge to push and asked to be checked again.  I was at 9 and it was go time. 

A bunch of people (I have no idea who – my eyes were closed – it could have been a team of clowns for all I know) wheeled me to the smallest delivery room ever.  I feel so sorry for anyone who was in the hallway at that time who had to see me get wheeled away to have my baby.  I was making some ungodly sounds at that point and probably succeeded in convincing every woman in that ward, pregnant or not, that they wanted an epidural.  To any of you who are out there and might be reading this, I am sorry. 

We got to the room and I was checked again and was told there was just a little lip of cervix left and that if I started to push that I could move it and get this baby out.  I remember with R having a distinct, overwhelming urge to push.  Like when you have a big poop and your body takes over and shoves it out of your body for you.  That is what the urge to push in labour feels like – but bigger – because you are pushing out an impacted bowling ball and not a cooperative poop.  I didn’t feel this with K because she hadn’t descended enough due to my unbroken water, the fact that her head was facing the wrong way, and the cervix lip.  So, to deal with all this, my water was broken with a crocheting needle and some Dr’s hands went in to my vagina to pull up towards the ceiling on the lip of cervix and down towards my bum to give me the feeling of needing to push.  This didn’t really help.  I started to push and couldn’t really get in to the groove.  I was frustrated because this wasn’t what had happened last time, and my perfect labour was in danger of being not so perfect. 

To add to things, K started having decels (decelerated heart beats).  Drs again put their hands up my lady business and attached a monitor to her scalp to keep track of things.  One of the lady Drs got in my face at some point and said that ‘this was not good.  She isn’t tolerating the contractions well.  We need you to get her out or we are going to have to intervene and help you do it’.  Words like ‘vaccuum’ and ‘forceps’ were thrown around and I was definitely out of my zone.  I was starting to get anxious, panicky and scared and just wanted people to stop touching me so I could get back in the zone and work with my body to do this damn thing! I said as much and the Drs (who numbered three at this point, with two nurses and a team on their way for the baby, just in case…) and they backed off for a few contractions so I could try on my own.  No dice.  Vaccuum time.  In what felt like less than a minute and not more than the duration of two contractions, K’s head had a vaccuum attached to it and she was pulled down in to the correct place in the birth canal and there it was!  The poop feeling!  I felt the urge and with the help of the vaccuum I crowned and pushed that kid right out!  Pop!  I collapsed in to tears as they took her over to check her out and asked over and over if she was ok.  Her apgar was 9 which was good.  She was fine!  I know how close we came to having a different outcome, and as much as I struggled in the following weeks to come to terms with how my labour got out of hand at the end, I am grateful that those professionals did their jobs and got me a healthy baby in the end.  I only needed a few stitches – 5 minutes worth, and then it was over. 

I got to see my favourite Dr later that night as she stopped in on her rounds.  We were both bummed that she hadn’t been there as my Dr for the birth, but she oohed and aahed appreciatively and it was a nice visit. 

See video:  I have just eaten the most amazing tuna sandwhich in the world and am so swollen and tired.  I observe that K has a ‘bum chin’ which is my favourite physical trait on my husband and two girls and other than that…  observe the bliss. 

Happy birthday to my little one. 

Ask The Real Mom Lady: A New Advice Column.

Dear Real Mom Lady,

I was at the store the other day and a question of etiquette came up.  Is it ok for me to keep parking in the spot designated for pregnant ladies and moms/families with small children even if my kids are 9 and 11?  And if they are plannning on staying in the car while I shop?  The reason I asked is because as I got out of my car this lady driving a minivan (ugh!  right?) with limp hair and those stickers on her windshield advertising to the world that she has three kids and a dog gave me a really mean look.  Like, she was pissed!  I saw her later in the store with her kids crammed in to the cart, carrying a box of diapers and opening a packet of cookies to give to her kids.  First of all, that is stealing until you pay for it.  Second of all, it isn’t safe to put all your kids in the cart.  Third, would it kill you to run a comb through your hair?  And that of your kids for that matter?  What do you think Real Mom Lady? 

Sincerely, Confused and Repulsed. 

Dear Confused and Repulsed,

By all means, keep parking in that spot designated for pregnant ladies and parents with young kids.  As well, keep a running mental tally of all their shortcomings and failings as a parent to bring up at your next dinner party.  I am sure you were NEVER in her position as you most likely always had your act together and always had time to shower.  As well, please make sure to cut in front of her in the checkout line next time you see her, or another woman like her.  They love it when you do that as it gives them more reason to look nasty and ungrateful.  You probably have somewhere important to get to like a supercilious convention or a haughty meeting.  She can wait.  Also, if her kids start acting up in the cart behind you be sure to turn, look at them with disdain and roll your eyes.  It helps.  Also, take your sweet ass time paying for your one or two items and drive really quickly in the parking lot on the way out. 

Hope that helped!

RML

 

Dear Real Mom Lady,

My 10 year old daughter was watching a mash up of Pussycat Dolls and Lady Gaga videos on the YouTube the other day and asked if I would buy her a belly shirt so she could show off her flat abs.  Should I?  I don’t want her to be uncool or made fun of by the other girls… 

Sincerely,

Undecisive. 

Dear undecisive,

Yes. Absolutely.  Buy her a belly shirt so she can show off excessive amounts of her skin and expose her at an early age to inappropriate sexual objectification.  If she happens to attract the wandering eye of a pedophile, all the better.  While you are at it, buy her short shorts that expose a bit of butt cheek and get her to wear the items together to the first day of school.  If she complains that she is cold, tell her to suck it up and wear what you bought because if she doesn’t she is being ungrateful.  Having your child grow up long before it is necessary, and buying into stereotypical cultural norms is the way to parent if you want to teach  her about the ‘real world’.  By the time she is 13 she should know how to flirt to get ahead in life and should be getting condoms and a perscription for the morning after pill in her Christmas stocking. 

Good luck! 

PS.  Buy a matching outfit for yourself and wear them together!  Everyone loves a mommy-daughter duo at the bars!

RML