Thirty-Four Days of Travel

We've now been on the road 34 days--including our trip to Winnipeg and all over the East Coast.  Mostly it's been a solo-parenting adventure, stopping in to see family and friends.  Jordan joined us for a week and it was a much needed reprieve.

I am definitely not regretting taking the time to travel and do fun things with the kids.  I would and will do it all over again.  I'm not even ready for it to be over yet.  But, man, am I ever zonked.  Being the on-demand full-time parent of two sleep-deprived little ones for more than a month is a job that can be very demanding.  Even when there are people to help out, those early before-6-am-wake-up calls and room-sharing middle-of-the-night wake-ups can be brutal.  Daytime planning is always a bit of a balancing act.  Is today a sleep in the car day?  Early nap? Late nap? One nap, two nap?  Four activities, one?  Stay home, stay out? Low-key, high-key.... Sometimes, at least for me, just making all those million decisions in one day is exhausting enough. 

We've been sharing one room all week which has gone surprisingly well.  I've always been the kind of person who LOVES sleep and needs sleep and needs everyone else to sleep too so that everyone is just happy.  But I think sometimes you get to a point that you are so tired you will all just sleep anywhere anytime.  There has been a lot of wrangling of little ones, a lot of "just LAY down."  A lot of singing and cuddling and little people crawling in my bed at night.  So I have tried to crash around the same time and sneak in naps for me when I can get them.  And when I can't, well, I just lay on the sofa or the floor and sleep with my eyes open.  These pictures pretty much sum it up.

Traveling with little people is always bitter-sweet, am I right?  You want to make these precious memories and do as much as you can wherever you are at, (within reason), doing things that you know the littles will love but also sneak in a few just for you.   I always find that part of me wants to revel in the time away from home and soak in new adventures, new places, new people, while the other side of me cannot wait to get back to a semblance of order and routine eventually.

Sometimes, it feels like we've been "on-vacation" forever...  and yet, it's not that long before it's all over and I am wondering how it all went so fast! Or maybe that's just parenthood.

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all the lovely mothers out there who I am privileged to know--those of you who share your own joys, proud moments and strifes. Sharing in this common experience of being a mother is a powerful thing.  You are an incredible source of support, wisdom and comedic relief.  Being part of that club--locally and virtually--is, without a doubt, essential to making it through a day.

A little thank you to the fathers out there who likely went to the store to help pick out cards or flowers, or maybe it was just that extra nudge or reminder to give a phone call.  Maybe they helped their children make a craft or a hand print or made breakfast.  Whatever you did, however you nudged our children today, thank you for having them pause just for a moment to thank their mommies for all the hard work they do.  It's one of those simple gestures, that thoughtfulness, that means so much.

And to my own mother, who is always a phone call away, to assuage the panic, give perspective, problem solve, and share stories and moments of pride, thank you for all that you do.  You are a constant source of love and support.  Without strong mothers like you... well, we would likely be naked, drooling, malnourished Neanderthals.   So thank you for instilling in us good strong morals, manners, faith and a sense of compassion.   Thank for you for all the late nights up with us, the poop you cleaned off the walls and crib, and sheets, the pee scrubbed out of the carpet, the veggies you disguised in spaghetti sauce, the times you held your tongue, the times you redirected, admonished us.  The times you patiently taught us to cook meals even if it made your kitchen a disaster.  The times you didn't get made when our creative messes reached new heights and you found layers of flour all over the bedroom furniture from a re-creation of an old dust-filled library......  There are so many times, countless, countless times, countless words and actions that helped shape us into who we are today.  Thank you.

Happy Mother's Day.

Hats and Pearls and Dresses, oh my!

Here we are, Maggie, just you and me in the mornings while brother is at school.  Just us and a box of dress up things.  It's never really too early to start digging into that box, putting on all sorts of costumes and pretending to go on big adventures.

I remember as a child rearranging rooms to make my bedroom a library, where I cataloged each of the books with homemade library stickers.  I would charge overdue fees to my parents.  I would take cups of flour and with a fan, blow fake dust all over them to make them seem old and mysterious.  (Not particularly something my mother was fond of).  I also took half of the downstairs and turned it into an art gallery of my collection of "Little Mermaid's Sisters" I had created by tracing a picture I had of Ariel and changing the hair styles and colour of the tails.

But we also loved to play dress-up, wearing old fashioned clothing with aprons.  We would mix clean toilet paper in buckets of water pretending to boil wool and then string it out on the split rail fence to dry in the sun.  We would try on our mother's dresses, our father's ties and put on silly glasses.  And we would get into the jewelry and shoes too.  And we would parade around in my mother's wedding dress, delighted as we got bigger and bigger each year and started to nearly fit it.  Boy, did we feel like we were getting more and more grown up in that dress.

Dressing up sure holds fond memories for me and I enjoy watching my children as they use their imaginations to be dinosaurs, train conductors, race car drivers and little mommies and daddies.  Maggie is just as happy covered in dirt and goop as she is with a string of pearls around her neck, whatever hat she can find around the house and various pieces of clothing--mine, her brother's, mittens, shoes, whatever.

As our children play pretend and dress-up, I am keenly aware of what a huge responsibility we have as parents to be good role models.  Our children are constantly watching and mimicking us, and each other.  I hear conversations and see actions repeated weeks later, phrases and intonations copycatted. It really makes me think about how these early years we are investing in their lives are so crucial.  I know that they will grow up and be so very much themselves with their own personalities, set their own goals and make their own decisions.   And it starts so young, this assertion of independence.  But, while I can, I am enjoying the times when they look at us with their big adoring eyes and dress up in our shoes and clothes and want to be just like us.

Adventures of a Birth Photographer

Never in a million years did I think I would have the chance to photograph a birth.  Even when my friend, Sam asked me to photograph hers I couldn't believe it would actually happen.  Not only to be witness to such an incredible event, other than being at my own children's births, but also to document it for their family and for all posterity.  I have to admit I was a bit nervous of the whole thing. 

In the days leading up to baby Indi's birth, I felt sort of like a midwife myself, waiting for a call to run off into the night to deliver a baby.  There was an afternoon we were sure the baby would come.  My friend Lucy and I, having put our kiddies to nap under the same roof, sat having tea and felt a little like this is what neighbors used to do.  Where were our socks to darn and knitting to be done while we waited to hear of a baby's soon arrival?

Sure enough it was a false alarm and the baby arrived nearly a week later, with a phone call at 4:45 in the morning and a delivery a mere two hours later in a birthing pool in my friend's living room--a home birth, a water birth, a long-wished for fulfilled birthing dream for my friend, Sam. How amazing to bear witness to such a thing.

How can I explain in words what I witnessed that morning in the dim light of their living room, sun not yet up, candles lit and low lights?  The birth was calm, serene, albeit intense, to be sure.  As the moment drew near, I could hardly believe the baby was making his way out and to the surface of the water so quietly and unassumingly.  There was no panic, no urgency, just a beautiful work of a mother bringing new life into this world from the shallow depths of a birthing pool surrounded by the closest of family and friends.  It was simply the most beautiful thing I have ever seen unfold in front of my eyes and I am still in awe at the wonder, the rawness, the intensity, the beauty of birth.

Sam's experience certainly wasn't my own birthing experience, as unique as each woman, each child itself is.  But it was beautiful and complex and intense just the same.  Somehow in watching and documenting Sam's delivery, I feel like it became part of my own story.  Watching a birth changes you each time.  To echo the words of my birth doula, with whom I shared a short exchange last evening.  "It humbles you, grounds you" and allows you to stand still for just a moment, admire the strength and endurance the human body and take in the beauty of newborn life.

For more pictures, visit: http://www.magnoliacoastsphotography.com/#!birth-photography/c8qu.  All pictures are shared with the approval of the mother, Sam.

This age, this stage.

This week I got an email from my sister begging me to send her pictures of the littles.  The funny thing is that I feel like I have a ton of material to share, but so little time to share it!  Which I suppose is in some ways a nice problem to have.  The littles are doing great and I can't say enough about how much I am loving this stage of our lives. Ok, so there is a reason two-year olds get a bad rap, and we certainly endured our share of "spiritedness" this year.  But so far ONE and THREE are really looking up. 

Now that Magdalene is walking (lolling side to side like a drunken sailor), she is such a real playmate to Gabriel who encourages her to walk to him.  Recently, in a desperate attempt to bring some sort of order to our lives, we moved ALL the toys to the basement and only allow a couple of toys up on the main floor during the day.  The funny thing is that now the littles play much quieter (sometimes) and with each other rather than their toys half the time--rocking in their boat, playing "where's Maggie" in the curtains, building towers with pots and pans, covering the fridge in magnets and playing chase.

And while I am on constant guard to break up spats, enforce time-outs, impose calm-down sessions, and be on the watch out for hazards, I sort of feel like the pressure is off just a little bit to be mama/counselor/chef AND playmate extraordinaire.  Phewf!

I love the way these tease each other--Maggie grabbing toys and dashing away under the table with a foolish grin on her face, the way Gabriel directs the play, "Maggie, come and play house with me," the way they get each other giggling about some secret toddler joke while they eat lunch.   

Magdalene is really starting to develop a strong little personality.  She is definitely dramatic, loves to dress up and put on necklaces, hats and mittens.  She can be found sporting at least one necklace any time of the day.  And talking up a storm saying all sorts of words, including, according to Jordan, "Onomatopoeia." He may think I am slightly exaggerating on the words in her vocabulary, but we all heard her say "raspberry" very clearly today.  All her s's come out as whistles through those two adorable front teeth.  She loves to wrinkle her nose and show those two teeth while she laughs mischieviously and gets her brother going.

Meanwhile Gabriel is the doting older brother, keeping Maggie in line with all the 'rules' in the house, as well as spoon-feeding (literally) his little sister.  And we are pretty sure we can owe Maggie's extensive vocabulary to his never-ending chatter.  They are definitely two characters with big personalities.

I'm definitely loving this new stage that I'm in.  I've found over the past year, there have definitely been some tough moments.  But I have tried hard to focus and take little snapshots in my brain (if my camera isn't handy) of the precious/quiet/endearing moments to tide me through the harder ones.  But recently, I've found there are more and more of those moments I keep logging away.  I'm sure we'll be moving into a new stage any day now, but right now, I'm logging this for posterity sake!

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Lessons We are Learning: A Moment of Compassion

Small daily interactions and teachable moments requiring honesty and compassion are important, but so, too, are the raw moments like yesterday's late afternoon, that I hope my children will remember.

As we were walking home from a jaunt in the park, we came across a dark form on the ground ahead of us. As we neared, one figured popped up and hurriedly walked away muttering something about having "his own life to live," etc.  But three figures remained--one standing, one crouched and one laying heavily on the pavement.  I could see it was not a good situation.  The young man was semi-conscious, the reek of alcohol and vomit was evident.  I asked what happened and was told he had been drinking in celebration of his 18th birthday and passed out, unable to walk and now unable to talk or move.  No one had a cell phone amongst the group, including me, but it was clear that this man needed help and needed it quickly or would risk hypothermia and alcohol poisoning.

It is at this point, with a dog and two young children and a looming supper-time that a person might continue on, anticipating that someone else with a phone or no children in tow might be able to step in.  This is made especially easy in a big anonymous city like Toronto.  There are so many excuses.

But, it was also a moment to model something.  With the promise of a speedy return, we took off to a neighbor we knew very close by.   Gabriel knew something was not right.  He biked closely behind me as I pushed the stroller, running at full speed down the sidewalk and back to the man on the pavement with a neighbor's blankets.  Gabriel hopped off his bike and stood nearby over the man as we attended to him, lifting him onto a blanket and covering him with our coats while talking to him and reassuring him that help would be there soon.  Gabriel looked very concerned and kept saying, "Man is sick.  Man is sick."  He knew this was a time to help, a time to be attentive and compassionate. 

Fortunately for this young man, only just 18 years old, an ambulance arrived within mere minutes. It was his intoxicated 17 year old friend who had stayed with him, ever so appreciative of our help, when all of his other friends left them for fear of getting into trouble. 

I would be naive to believe that Gabriel and Magdalene will never do some pretty stupid things in their lives.  We all do.  But I was proud of this friend, regardless of his recklessness, for sticking with his buddy and ensuring that he got the help he needed, even if it meant he would be in trouble and have to face the consequences.  His friends were cowards.  He was the drunk, unlikely hero.  But he was a hero none-the-less.  And I hope that no matter what, my children will have the compassion to go beyond themselves to help people in need, the honesty to fess up and the integrity to face consequences head on. 

How do we teach our children these things?  We try to model them and exercise selflessness in big and small ways.  We aspire to reward honesty and integrity over "good behaviour."  We attempt to find teachable moments in the frustration of our parenting to talk, to inspire, to foster and nurture rather shame and punish--all things I am trying ever so hard to remember in the moment....  All things so easy to forget as we run headlong into the day with floors covered with cheerios, cars strewn with crackers, and tantrums over snowsuits and missing blue spoons.

There are so many wishes we have for our children, so many values we hope to instill.  And such an important role we play in the lives of our children, isn't it?

Mamas and Mulled Wine: Just the Mamas

The other evening our Toronto Mamas group got together for an evening of mulled wine and minced pies, a cookie exchange, secret santa, food bank donation and (add another item to the agenda here).  It was sort of our last ditch effort to fit anything would could into the year before the end!  We are nothing if not ambitious!

It was such a lovely evening for the mamas to get together without our littles in tow and we could just chat amongst ourselves.  Of course, yes, we talked endlessly about our children anyway!  But that wasn't all.  The mulled wine was delicious, the food wonderful and the company was only the best.  It's hard to believe that we have been in Toronto for over a year now and at the same time, it seems like I have known some of these women longer than that!  I guess when we all have children almost exactly the same ages in common, it makes for a strong bond.  We go through all the ups and downs together and rely on each other for advice, for venting/sounding boards, share silly stories and cute moments, etc.  We can all empathize with each other.

Isn't it funny that just over a year ago, I stood in a park meeting some of these women for the first time, scared (just a little) out of my wits at having to meet new women and make new connections.  I felt like I could barely breathe!  How to say "Hi. I'm new here."  (HINT:  Want to be my friend????)  And only a couple of months later, they were holding a shower for baby Magdalene, who had just arrived!  What a welcoming and supportive little group we've had going.  And I just shake my head and laugh that I could be so scared to meet such wonderful people.  Ha!  You have made our move to Toronto so incredibly worth it, mamas!  It truly is a privilege to raise children in this community of moms.

More babies on the way!!!

 The cookie exchange!!  Hmmmm....

And for mamas who have just recently moved to a new city, there are ways to get connected with other mamas just like you, but it takes a risk, it takes reaching out.  Here are a few ways we got connected:

• Early Years - Government Dept of Education runs pre-pre-school programs through the local schools.  A good way to meet people (especially initially) and create connections.
• Meetup.com works through your location to find groups in your area.  Also a good way to start a group that others can join and meet at various locations to become familiar with each other.
• Facebook Mama buy/sell/swap by location.
• The park - Just take the risk and swap numbers with another mama who seems really interesting and seems interested in you and your family.  (Not something that often happens automatically), but, that's how I met one of my good Toronto mamas.
• Church - there are other mamas (and papas) out there who are hoping to connect and sometimes this is a really great way.  

No matter what you do, making new friends in a new town can always be a challenge. It takes actually leaving your house....  Having children in our lives, certainly makes it easier in some ways by providing a common connection.

And there we are.  ALMOST all of us.  Well, ladies, what a wild and wonderful year it's been, 2014!  Let the parties and playdates and random shenanigans continue!

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Lessons Learned.

Well, this morning was quite exciting in our neighborhood when a firetruck came rolling through, lights flashing.  It was a cold morning this morning, so while loading Gabriel in the car, I shut the door, apparently with my set of only functioning keys.  While reaching to load up Maggie, Gabriel clicked the lock button and locked himself inside.  A moment of panic set in, when I realized I had an extra set in my purse on the ground beside me.  Phew!  Always thinking, Stephanie.  Like a good mother.  Always prepared.  Well, I reached in and pulled them out only to find the battery dead.  I clicked and clicked, but nothing happened. 

Well, I said to myself, surely if he locked himself in, we can find a way to get him to unlock the door, right?  At first Gabriel thought this was all quite funny.  He could buckle himself in my seat, pretend to drive away.  He could take off his coat if he wanted to and he did right in front of me in a showy display of independence. Haha.  Freedom!  I coaxed and coaxed him to try to unlock the door, open the handle, etc. which to his credit he tried to do, but couldn't seem to figure the unlock part out on his own.  His excitement turned to eagerness to help before panic and then utter despair when he realized he was really and truly stuck and there wasn't anything I could do.

I called around trying to find a tow company close to us, but most were too far away and at this point, at what felt like -10C at 9am in the morning, Gabriel was starting to get really upset and cold.  He was blowing on his little fingers and sucking on them trying to keep them warm.  Meanwhile, Magdalene, in my arms was also getting cold and restless and upset.  I remember my friend Lucy, that time this past summer when her twins got locked in the car, had called the fire department.  I knew they were close to us and could arrive quickly.

One dead key battery, several attempts at coaxing, a call to husband who came rushing home, a few phone calls to various tow companies, the car dealership and CAA (where we are not members), thirty minutes in the cold, one phone call to the fire department, and one smashed back window later....  Gabriel was retrieved from the car. 

He was definitely upset and scared, but the moment that window smashed and he saw the firemen and firetruck, the cool factor definitely set in.  The firemen were very understanding.  Apparently this is some rite of passage for two-years-olds-turning-three?  We were all quite thankful for the firemen who then let us climb inside the truck to peek around, gave Gabriel a stuffed Dalmatian puppy and took our picture.  Lucy's twins even stopped by to check it out, remembering fondly their locked-in-the-car-adventure as well.  It made me feel better that even such a sensible and put-together mother, like my friend Lucy, could make a simple mistake like locking her children in the car too. 

It was a scary (and expensive) lesson to learn.  And such an easy mistake to make.  But all was well after a few cuddles and some hot chocolate.  Well, Gabriel will live to tell the tale of the day his mother locked him in the car on a cold morning in November.  But at least we are all safe and sound!  And smiling nonetheless.

Pool Party for the Mamas.

One of the cherries on the top of the "Being a Mama" cake is automatic enrollment in the mama club.  And one of the great things about being in the mama club is ladies nights out.

I was so lucky to stumble into Victoria who connected me with some mamas in Toronto when we first moved here.  Since then, I have made some wonderful friends.  We are all so very very different, even perhaps in our parenting but it's been so great to have being a mama in common.  People to affirm and be affirmed by, people who share their struggles and success stories.  When things go really off the rails, I have these women who are all going or have gone through similar issues.  It helps me realize that that what I am going through as a parent is completely normal and that I am not crazy!

So last week we had a little pool party for the ladies.  We talked about our children, sure, but there were plenty of other topics on the table too.  And with no little ones running around to keep an eye on, we all got to actually talk and get to know each other a little bit more.  We ate and took a late night swim before calling it quits at a somewhat decent hour in lieu of early morning calls.  I have to say, it was one of our best nights yet!  Sometimes it's nice putting being a woman first.  Mostly I spend so much time wearing my mama hat, I forget.

Thanks Vic for hosting!!  And thank you mamas for being in my life!

 
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