A quiet night out

We mistakenly went out for dinner to a quiet ethnic restaurant last night. It was all my doing. I just had to have Indian - nothing else would do. We weren't thinking. We left the house unprepared. We didn't do our research or carefully plan.

When we arrived, we noticed that we were only the third table in the entire place. I quickly flipped the menu over to find the kids menu. There wasn't one. Our server asked us if we needed a highchair or a booster. Shaune and I looked at each other worriedly and said neither.

You see, recently we packed away the highchair, tried a booster seat for a few weeks and finally gave up when Deaglan would only settle for a dining room chair. Every night it takes a lot of effort, chiding, threats and sometimes louder-than-we-ever-thought-we'd talk-to-our-child telling to get him to sit for even five minutes straight.

So there we were at this very quiet restaurant. The other two tables hosted each a young couple who I swear wore the pronouncement that they would never ever want children like red flags on their backs. I'm not making it up when I say that these people looked like they felt all children were a nuisance. And I'm positive that our presence only certified their feelings were true.

Because Deaglan did not miraculously morph into a cooperative quiet little person. He stayed his usual curious, grabby, I-don't-do-sitting-still self. And Shaune and I became nervous jittery wrecks as if we had brought a bomb into a building without the foggiest clue of how to diffuse it if it went off.

So after I confirmed that there indeed was no children's menu (you may recall some of my posts complaining that Deaglan only eats cheese and cheerios), I asked our server if she had some crayons and a piece of paper. I would have settled for borrowing her pen and unfolding a napkin at that point. Thankfully she had a blank place mat and plastic cup full of broken crayons.

I told Shaune to hurry up and decide on his meal so we could order as soon as the server came back with our drinks. No sense testing Deaglan's limits at a time like this. Unfortunately we didn't have to wait long for him to reach these limits.

I ordered him a plate of steamed basmati rice and some cheese-filled nan bread. I absent-mindedly gave him a spoon to eat the rice with. That's when the concert started. He first jumped off of his chair and began drumming on the chair. As I tried discreetly to grab him he escaped my reach and ran toward a brick wall and learned what a lovely scraping noise the spoon made against it. By this point white rice covered the floor beneath us. I began the chase while Shaune crouched to the floor to pick up the rice. Once I caught up to him, with teeth clenched, I grabbed his arm and suggested we go for a walk to the front of the restaurant to see the Christmas tree.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

His first instinct of course was to grab the garland and beads. I picked him up but this only caused wailing and crying to let him down. Out of breath and pregnant I calmed him and brought him back to the table. Our food had arrived. The server asked if we needed anything else. We'll try the highchair I suggested desperately.

This entire time I was too afraid to look over at the other tables. I didn't want to see their disapproving looks. I did notice however that there was not a single chuckle or awwww so cute directed our way.

We were able to eat a few bites and then just gave up and asked that our food be packaged for home. I always swore I would never be one of those parents who scolds and yells at her kids in public. And I didn't last night but I am seriously re-considering this foolish oath I made.

Love letter to a baby

Dear Baby,

this is you at 11.5 weeks. I know it's early to start a dialogue with you but I really wanted to tell a bit about your big brother.

But first I want to say that it was such a relief to finally confirm that you were in my tummy this morning. When the Ultrasound technician was first taking measurements and probing around with the thingy they use, I tried to read her face. She was virtually expression-less. I could hardly breathe from the anxiety I was feeling. I mean I knew you were in there but you can't imagine the worry that goes through a pregnant woman's mind especially these first few months. So when she finally turned the screen toward me and I could see your glorious little form in my sac I wanted to laugh and cry. I exhaled and silently thanked God for you.

Anyway, back to your big brother. Just a few things. We're trying to get him prepped for your arrival. I figure it's not too early. We have our work cut out for us though. For instance, I've told him several times that you are a baby in my tummy. But later when I ask him where the baby is, he insists on pointing to himself and saying baby. Don't worry though, I think this could work itself out with a lot of repitition on my part. Also, your Dad and I have begun the arduous task of teaching him about sharing. I gotta be honest with you - he's not all that into it. But we know how important this will be for your arrival so we won't give up.

And Baby, we don't by any means want to encourage competition between you and your brother. We already know that we love you just as infinitely as we do him. However, if you feel strongly about defeating him on a few things may we suggest that you make your debut as a champion sleeper. It would raise a few eyebrows and the way we see it, it could be a win for all of us. No pressure though.

I also wanted to include you in this letter to celebrate with me the eve of your big brother's 23 month birthday. In a month and a day he will be two. I don't want to say I can't believe it because frankly I don't remember a time when I didn't know him. Okay I do remember but life seemed to have become exponentially more joyful since he came into our lives. After you establish your place here (and you can count on your Dad and me to help you with this) I think you will really like your big bro. He's pretty funny and has a wonderful heart.

Love always,
Mommy.

God woke me up

I've been soooooooo tired and feeling unbelievably nauseated and that's why I haven't posted lately. I'm sure some of you have guessed that I am pregnant. I'm only about nine weeks along and sadly already almost into maternity clothes. My body seems to have been just waiting for this chance to pop back into form. And as I had imagined, it is tricky business being pregnant with a busy toddler.

Oh and the busy toddler? He's been sick too. On Tuesday we stood in line for the H1N1 vaccine - here in Canada they are offering it to high risk groups first. Since Deaglan is between six months and five years he fit into this category. So with a little planning on Shaune's part we were able to get through the line-up within an hour. I was going to brag about this to all of you but then the events of a few days later changed my mind. Back to that in a minute.

That night after he was vaccinated, he developed a low-grade fever. We were warned that this might happen so I gave him some Motrin and tucked him into bed. I did my usual check a few hours later to make sure he had enough blankets and wasn't hanging off of the side of his bed and his temperature was fine.

At two in the morning I woke up out of a very sound sleep to music playing through the baby monitor. It was the first song on a CD that Deaglan falls asleep to every night (some lovely lullabies on a Fisher Price CD). I looked at the alarm clock to see if maybe our power had gone out making everything restart when it came back. Nope. I felt paralyzed. There was no good reason that the music would be playing. Deaglan would have had to find his step-stool in the dark and find the play button for this to make any sense. The CD player was new - just two months old. Stupid, scary thoughts raced through my mind. Kidnapping. But what kind of a kidnapper presses play before leaving?? I pulled my act together and went into Deaglan's room.

Everything was in order. Except that my little monkey boy was burning up with fever. I ran downstairs for some ice water and baby Tylenol. I barely slept after that checking on him every hour or so. I called in sick for the next two days - I have a wonderful understanding employment situation. By 2:30 that following afternoon, I packed us up and headed to Emergency. I couldn't keep the fever down alternating between Tylenol and Motrin every three hours. We were there for several hours. And every time someone would come by the bed to take Deaglan's temperature or check his other vitals he would cry and say All done, all done.

I think he's on the mend now. God works in mysterious ways though don't you think??

Daddy daycare

I've been under the weather. I'll fill you in on the details soon...

Recently we upgraded our video camera. This one didn't work out - the picture quality as you'll see isn't great. Regardless here is a glimpse into Fridays when Shaune is off and takes care of Deaglan all day. He thought this was pretty funny and after I finished shaking my head I had to admit it was.

As you will recall from previous posts, my international friends, Tim Horton's is the most popular coffee joint in Canada. Shaune has wasted no time in instilling the love of this place in Deaglan. Just this morning Deaglan said Daddy Tim Hoiton's.

Someone call Mensa!

Winter has sent its messenger to let us know it will be along shortly. My morning routine has become slightly more taxing. When I returned to work in January, Deaglan was still more baby than toddler and quite cooperative. Getting his footgear, coat and accessories on weren’t challenging. However this has not been the case of late.

These days by the time I’ve finished tackling and pinning him down long enough to get him dressed and out the door, I am out of breath. He’s everywhere.

If he’s not running away from me, he’s running to the TV or stereo to bust out some moves. He can’t stop dancing. The other morning I asked Shaune to check the weather channel for that day’s forecast and walked in on Deaglan cutting a rug to the local forecast guitar solo.

He’s changed so much in the last few months. And like I said to my brother and his wife the other night – I know that it’s probably normal but it’s hard not to think that your child is a genius when he starts doing all of these neat new things. He breaks into songs like Bah, Bah Black Sheep out of the blue and he’s talking all the time in clear and distinct phrases. He is able to tell us when he wants to eat or drink or watch one of his Thomas the train videos.

At night when we have our reading time, he is able to differentiate each book either by reciting a key phrase or telling me its name. His attention span for sitting and listening to me read has increased tenfold. I can read all of Green Eggs and Ham without him losing interest for a second. Last night when I finished reading the longer version of The Tale of Peter Rabbit he took the book from me, opened to the pages where I had earlier asked for his participation (when Mr. MacGregor says kertschoo – I always ask Deaglan to sneeze and when Mr. MacGregor’s hoeing is described, I ask Deaglan to scritch and scratch) and again repeated the actions. Genius I tell you!

What an exciting time in a human’s life and I feel so privileged to witness it. It takes my breath away and reminds me how good, how really really good this parenting gig is.

Deaglan is pictured here with his Papa - my dad.

Simple

The things that make me happy are quite simple. An unsolicited hug or kiss from Deaglan. Hearing him speak in almost-sentences. A belly laugh from Shaune. The smell of Deaglan’s hair. A warm meal prepared with attention and love. Time spent together with the television off. Getting the housework done. The way Deaglan says Mommie pease moe book. Fitting the whole family on our bed.

The things that make me sad are simple as well. Feeling unwelcome. Not holding Deaglan when he’s within arm’s reach. Weekends that fly by. Racism. Children starving or being hurt. Meanness.

The things that irritate the crap out of me can be simple too. People’s antiquated notions of parenthood and having to hear their opinions on how we are raising our boy. You aren’t being very subtle by the way. One uppers. A lack of self-awareness. Passive aggressive behaviour. Egomaniacs. Unannounced visits.

On why I haven't written lately

I took a break from blogging. Sometimes I feel vulnerable that I share so much about my life here. At these times it helps me to keep quiet.

I often feel torn between wanting to write deeply personal things and keeping it light. Mostly it comes down to my fear of what people will think about me.

But if I look at that fear, I see that it is what keeps us all so separate and alone. Perhaps sharing our humanity is the healthier thing.

The break did me good anyway. I thought about this strange hobby I've grown to love. I realized it's when I share a particularly personal story that I feel a bit less lonely in this world.