TWO!

I am in complete shock that when we wake up tomorrow morning the blonde ball of mischief and shenanigans, who sleeps beside me each and every night and who I lovingly refer to as Thing 4, will be two years old. Two?! Cue the typical responses: 

How did that happen?

Where has the time gone?

Yada . . . yada . . . yada

blah . . . blah . . . blah

But yeah, my baby boy is turning two tomorrow and as exciting as this is, it kind of makes my heart hurt. I love the fact that he is growing up because, in all honesty, the alternative is something I never want to experience, but I hate the fact that no matter how many pictures I take, or how many blog posts I write, or how many nights I cuddle up to him while he sleeps and try to soak in all of his adorableness, or how many hours we spend lying on the living room floor building Legos or playing trains, I will forget. I will forget how he smells when he comes straight out of the bath and I wrap him up and have to show him what picture is on the hood of his towel. 

It's the ducks! Quack . . . quack 

Look, it's a boat!

I will forget the sound of his laugh when he thinks I am about to catch him as he tears through the kitchen with a pen or marker in his hand. I will forget how cute he is when he pulls a chair up beside me saying: I help, while I am making dinner or washing dishes.I will forget how it feels when he wraps his little arms around my neck and I kiss him over and over again just to hear him squeal with laughter. I will forget the look of excitement he gets on his face and how he pats his chest when I ask him who he is:

Nee . . . Nee

(me . . . me)

I will forget.

And that sucks. 

I have been blessed with a gift, the gift of writing, but during moments like this, on the eve of Leif's second birthday, that gift feels far too inadequate.Words cannot capture what I want to capture - the way he looks, the way he smells, the way he sounds, the way he runs, the way he cries, the way he nurses, the way he kisses, the way he jumps and the way he feels. Words cannot express how much I love him, or how much I enjoy spending my days with him. Words cannot stop time or even make it slow down just a tinch, just enough for me to soak it all in before . . . gasp! . . . he becomes a two year old and I no longer have a two-under-two crew. On top of losing my baby, I am even losing my beloved catch-phrase. This is too much!

So, Leif, know this: I tried. No matter how busy my day was, or how difficult you were being (truth be told, Bud, you are difficult) I tried my best.Where words fail, I pray my actions will speak volumes. I pray that each kiss, each laugh, each story, each game, each lesson, each walk, and each hug we have shared will have a lasting impression on you; so much so that will never, ever forget just how much your mama loves you.

Happy Birthday, Thing 4!

I absolutely adore you!

We're Going on a Bear Hunt

Today, Leif, Harriet and I read We're Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen. Leif loved it so much that we had to read it three times in a row, and then we had to go out for our very own bear hunt.

Harriet, we're going on a bear hunt.

We're going to catch a big one.

What a beautiful day!

We're not scared.

Did he say a bear hunt, mom? I might be a little scared.

Oh-oh! Woods!

A leafy, dark wood.

We can't go over it.

We can't go under it.

Oh no! We've got to go through it!

crunch!crunch!

crunch! crunch!

crunch! crunch!

Oh-oh! Puddle!

A deep, round puddle.

We can't go over it.

We can't go under it.

Oh no! We've got to go through it!

splish splash!

splish splash!

splish splash!

shhhhhhh . . . I think the bear is close. 

There he is!

 I guess in Leif's world bears can fly.

. . . tee hee!

 Then, when Leif was done hunting bears, he grabbed my hand and said:

Home, mom.

Yes, Love. We can go home now.

 I truly am the luckiest woman in the world.

He's Finally Got It!

We skype with Mr. Level-Headed every night. While most of us are eager to talk to him and share stories from our day, Leif has been reluctant to join in. He would sometimes wave to daddy, but more times than not, he would cry and run away from the computer. Tonight was different, though, and I am sure it made Mr. Level-Headed pretty happy. Tonight, Leif dragged a chair over to the computer, pushed me out of the way, screamed "No, Mom" and then proceeded to talk to his daddy. It was the cutest thing ever! Leif needed this tonight and so did his daddy. They talked about his day and about his birthday that is coming up in ten days. How did that happen?! Then Leif showed him his ball . . .  no surprise there. When it was time to go, Leif waved and ran off to play. A little later, while Leif was eating supper and I was seated in the living room getting Harriet ready for bed. I noticed that he suddenly became very quiet and watched as his head hung low.

Leif, are you okay buddy?

He got down from his chair and ran over to me. He wrapped his tiny arms around my neck and whispered:

I sad.

Awwww, baby.

I held him close for a couple minutes and reassured him that his daddy will be coming home and that he loves him very much. Having Mr. Level-Headed away has been hard on all of us, but I honestly think it has been hardest on Leif because he has no idea where his daddy has gone or why. And since Harriet joined our family, he and Mr. Level-Headed had become the bestest of buddies. It makes me sad to think that Leif misses his daddy so much and vice versa, but watching them tonight made me so  happy. Leif is one very lucky boy to have a daddy that loves him and his siblings enough to make this huge sacrifice for them and their future, and before we know it, his daddy will be home where he belongs. I can't wait to see the look on Leif's face when Mr. Level-Headed gets off that airplane. It will be the sweetest of reunions.

We love you, Mr. Level-Headed!

 . . . 7 more Fridays

And yes, that is a beard that is beginning to sprout on my man's face. Is he trying to make this harder on me?! Ahhhhh! I love my man with a beard.

  

The Night Shift

With Mr. Level-Headed in Nunavut, our sleeping arrangements have changed slightly. Leif no longer sleeps in his crib beside our bed because  . . . well, there really is no good reason other than the fact that I am selfish and I adore squeezing my way in between two sleeping bundles of adorableness each night. Oh. My. Land. This is my heaven! I know for certain that these moments will be those moments I long for when Thing 4 and Thing 5 grow up. I love how peaceful our nights are and how snuggly my babies are when the room is dark and we are curled up under the covers together. I quickly fall asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow knowing that they are safe and feeling pretty proud of myself for having survived yet another challenging day. 

Now, I say peaceful, and for the most part, I am blessed because both babies sleep soundly most nights and if they do stir, they are quickly soothed back to sleep with a quick nursing. However, there are some nights when Harriet's insatiable appetite for milk gets the best of her and she is plagued with tummy pains, or when Leif decides that sleep is a waste of his precious time and that it would be better spent talking to his mama and practicing his gymnastics moves. I will be honest, those nights are rough and during those nights I fantasize about grabbing the car keys and getting out of Dodge all by my sweet lonesome, but thankfully, like I said, those nights are few and far between.

So, the other night when Leif woke up excitedly practicing his newest word, I instinctively began to look for my keys.

Nice knowing ya babies; I am outta here!

BUTT!

what?!

butt . . . butt . . . butt . . . butt . . . butt . . . butt

ugh.

Yes, my niece Ava says words like over-zealous and my boy says butt. I swear I am living in an episode of The Simpsons sometimes.

Anyhoo . . .

Over and over again, while clearly enunciating the last t sound, Leif would whisper butt in my ear and then erupt in giggles. I started to feel my frustration mount as he refused to listen to my soothing suggestions to go back to sleep:

Time for sleepies, Leif.

butt . . .

Lie down on your pillow, Leif.

butt . . .

The dragon mama was about to make an appearance and unleash her fury when I noticed two large blue saucers peering up at me. Harriet was wide awake now and was excitedly kicking her feet and swinging her arms:

Yay! Mom and Leif are up. Let's party!

Knowing that he now had an adoring fan, Leif took it up a notch:

Butt . . . Butt!

And for some reason unbeknownst to me . . . okay, let's be honest, it is one hundred percent due to the fact that I have officially lost my mind, I began to laugh and my heart filled with joy watching these babies giggle and play together. Sure it was 3am and I was exhausted, and yes, we had to get up in four hours to get ready for church, but oh my goodness, I could not get over how cute these two babies of mine are. I really am the luckiest mama in the world!

awwwww . . .

 Then after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute, I decided the dragon mama's fury was not my most useful tool at this moment and opted to unleash an even more powerful trick of mine . . . the boobies. The babies did not stand a chance and within minutes they were both back to sleep.

Mom: 1

The two-under-two crew: 234, 768, 999

. . . tee hee!

At least I can say I won one.

At Least I am Not Her

Lately, I feel like Leif, Harriet and I are the Three Muskateers. The situations we find ourselves in are ridiculous! Like the other day, I had to take the van in for an oil change. The three of us had already made four stops before this one and needless to say, the babies were squirrely. I decided to try out the new Mr. Lube by Costco since we had to stop there next after our oil change. I felt unsure as I pulled up because I did not see any cars outside of the garage. Then a man opened up the bay door and waved me in. As I pulled into the shop, I looked around and noticed there was nowhere for the babes and I to go, so I rolled down my window and asked the attendant:

Do we stay in the car?

Yes, you do.

Okay, now I am a bit melodramatic on the best of days, but I kid you not, I swear I heard the angels herald. I have never been so happy in all of my life. Then he asked if I would like something to drink and if Leif could have a balloon.

Yes and yes.

When he told me that I would also receive free windshield wipers, I nearly slapped a big wet kiss right on his lips!

What?!

So, there the three of us sat as happy as we could be; Harriet cooed away, while Leif bounced his balloon and I drank my water. I was so happy that I started texting my sister, Hilary, extolling the virtues of Mr. Lube to her. Occasionally, Leif would hit his balloon into the back seat so I would have to climb out of my seat and head to the back of the van to retrieve it, but it was all good because WE WERE STILL IN THE VAN! It was only until my oil change was coming to a close when I suddenly looked around and began to laugh. Here I was sitting in the loser cruiser, with its rusty bits and broken door handle, tossing a balloon around with my boy and loving every minute of it, while there on either side of me are two brand new sports car. Each of their owners, who were coiffed and appeared completely unaffected by the pampering service of their Mr. Lube attendant, stood in stark contrast to me. I love moments like this because they always make me laugh when I imagine what they must be thinking right now:

Thank heavens I am not that poor girl.

The other morning was even more foolish. The two-under-two-crew woke up and, as I was about to change their diapers, I remembered that I was supposed to wash their diapers the night before. EEEEEEEEK!

So, I threw on the clothes I wore the day before (to Mr. Lube no less) and packed the babies into their car seats with wet diapers and jammies on. Then we headed to Superstore where I saw they had their Pampers diapers on sale. While we were driving, Leif began to cry for a snack. It was only then that I realized that I had forgotten to pack any snacks and the poor baby did not have any breakfast. I assured him that I would buy him something to eat at the Superstore, but clearly this did not make any sense to him because he continued to cry. I can only imagine how the three of us looked as I pushed the cart around the Superstore. Again, I could almost hear people whisper under their breath, 

At least I am not her.

What people can't see is how ridiculously happy I am right now. I love spending my days with the two-under-two crew. I love hanging out with my big crew, and I love my Mr. Level-Headed! Sure, I am  that woman whose husband works away and who has been left alone with five kids, one of whom is sick (and yeah is still really sick so please pray for her); the woman people can use to their measure their own lives against to feel better about themselves, but that is okay. Yes, I have my moments, but that is all they are, moments. Deep down I am completely head over heels in love with my life and all of its ridiculousness, and that is worth far more than any sports car . . . I think.

. . . tee hee!

He really was hungry . . . eeeeek!

Late Night Thoughts

Last night as the big kids prepared for bed, Mr. Level-Headed and I sat on our bed watching the two-under-two crew play. What are those babies doing up so late? We were wondering the same thing. Leif was practicing jumping with two feet while Harriet was practicing blowing raspberries; I guess some things are more important than sleep. Mr. Level-Headed and I smiled as Leif bent down to kiss Harriet on the head after each jump and she returned his thoughtfulness with a grin and a coo.

This is the most challenging stage of my life so far. I am being stretched in more ways and in more directions than I would have ever thought possible. It's funny because when having more children was simply a dream of mine, I would envision them just joining us for the ride. I forgot that each baby brings with them their own purpose, their own unique set of needs and their own dreams, and that my role as their mom is to ensure that they are able to find their own path and have the tools they need to navigate it successfully when that time comes. These babies are not mine and all of THIS has nothing to do with me. THIS is for them, all five of them, and by being given the opportunity to raise these five amazing individuals, I have found my own path. Although I often feel like I am completely incapable of taking yet another step, I do and then I take another step. My entire life has prepared me for this moment. All those years I cared for and toted around my plastic baby, Laura, I was preparing to love and nurture my real babies. All those years I spent getting an education and eventually obtaining two degrees has helped me to teach, inspire and encourage my own children to do the same. And all those years I longed to hold more babies and all the pain and heartache I suffered trying to have them taught me how to truly appreciate my babies when they finally arrived. My life has taught me patience. It has taught me perseverance and it has shown me that I can do hard things. No matter how difficult my days of being a mama of five are, I know I can do it. I was made for these days, and I am going to cherish every moment of them. 

So, when Mr. Level-Headed looked up at me, smiled and commented:

These two are going to be so close.

Even though I was very tired and wanted nothing more than for this day to finally be done, I smiled back:

Yes, they are, and that is why we are doing this.

I love you, two-under-two crew!

When You Give a Toddler a Puddle . . .

Yesterday was a wet, wet day. The two-under-two crew and I were housebound since our big, Baby Girl demanded  . . . er I mean . . . asked if she could have the car for the day. If you have ever been a teenager or have a raised a teenager then you know that the world revolves around them and we, the parents, siblings and friends, of the teenager are merely here to make their life more comfortable and enjoyable. If for a moment you feel the need to question this universal law then I warn you: duck and hide . . . duck and hide!

Anyhoo . . .

So, we were housebound and rainy days are no fun to be housebound with a toddler and an infant. Okay, I am lying. Rainy days are great opportunities to snuggle with an infant; it's the toddler that makes things challenging. By noon, we had read stories,coloured pictures, played trains, ate snacks, and napped. Oh, and he, the toddler, coloured on the couch with a highlighter, dragged clean clothes from room to room, brushed his teeth at least ten times (we have the toddler toothpaste with no fluoride - phew!), stood on the table and threw soggy cheerios on the floor for Scout to eat, washed Harriet's face with at least ten baby wipes and put Zincofax cream all over her jeans, After we ate lunch, I was done with the toddler, but unfortunately, I can't just be done with the toddler. So, I needed to think fast. I looked outside and saw the raining coming down. When there is rain, there are puddles, and if you give a toddler a puddle . . . well, let's just say this mama gets a break. 

 I was still in my pajamas and Leif was only in a diaper and a shirt, but I didn't have it in me to wrestle some pants on him or to wrestle my own pants from him in order to get dressed. We grabbed our rain boots and rain coats. I tucked Harriet inside of my coat, and we were off. For the next hour, life was good.

He splashed.

He fished.

And of course, he played soccer.

He collected rocks.

He took his clothes off. 

And he splashed again.

Harriet loves watching Leif play, and each time he splashed in a puddle, she would giggle. She was feeling very Seusical yesterday, which could also explain why she was so giddy.

When we went back inside, life returned to normal; Leif made messes, Leif threw tantrums and Harriet continued to giggle. She is such a sweetheart! But for that one hour we spent outside, life was blissful. Thank heavens for puddles!

Guardian Angels

Caring for toddlers is a lot of fun, but it can be downright terrifying! Their enthusiasm for life combined with their utter lack of common sense can be a lethal cocktail. Yesterday, mom and I took the two-under-two crew to Fredericton to babysit Ava, while Emily was in class. During our visit to the park, Leif and Ava suddenly became bored with the climbing structure and made a beeline for the busy road. Like two wild piglets, Leif and Ava took off as fast as their little legs could take them in different directions, laughing as if they were in the middle of the best game ever and seeing aunt Krista/mom scrambling after them in a sheer panic only made them run faster and squeal louder. There was no way I could grab both of them before they ran straight out into traffic,and for one brief moment, time stood still while I tried to figure out who would listen best and who I needed to physically restrain. It did not take me long to solve this one.

Ava, STOP!!

oh? stop.

And she stopped just as I wrapped my arms around Leif before he took another step. I grabbed him and ran over to Ava who was standing on the edge of the curb saying stop, stop, stop.

Thank you, Ava, for listening. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

What can I say? I know my son . . . and thank heavens my gut instincts were right. Phew!

The other afternoon was equally scary. It was lunchtime and I was about to place Leif in his highchair when out of the blue he began to lose his mind, kicking and flailing his arms. As I struggled to get his feet through the holes, Leif flung himself up and over the chair. Again, for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as I watched him falling head first onto the hardwood flour. Without even thinking, I shot my arm out, grabbed his arm, and managed to flip him over, right side up so that he landed on his feet. The whole thing was surreal;  Leif simply walked away with the strangest look on his face, like he was asking:

Whoa! What just happened . . .

I have no idea how I did not dislocate his shoulder, or how I managed to slow him down enough to remain on his feet as if he had not only moments before been plummeting to an inevitable concussion or even worse. It was then and there that I decided that yes, indeed, guardian angels do exist and I think an entire league of them are helping me protect this crazy, wild toddler of mine. Thank heavens because he is a handful! 

Aaaachoo . . .

Leif is still sick. The good news, though, is that according to the doctor it is just a cold and there is no sign of an infection. Phew! The bad news is that he is a miserable, snotty mess. He cannot sleep and he has no patience for his demands not being met immediately. I think today is going to be a lie on the couch watching cartoons and snuggling with mama kind of day.

 I can think of worse ways to spend my day.

Pinch Me

I am having so much fun with my babies this week. A couple of times I have wanted to pinch myself and ask if this is really happening. I cannot believe that at almost 40 years old, I have been given the opportunity to raise two more babies, and this time I can just enjoy being their mama and not have to worry about school or work. It is a dream come true! They are so cute and so funny; I just love spending my days with them.

  Last week was a disaster. I was overwhelmed and discouraged, but this week, I put my granny panties on (this job is big and therefore requires even bigger panties), started getting up at 5:30 and it is amazing the difference that one extra hour makes. My big kids were sent to school with hot breakfasts in their bellies, the laundry is all caught up AND PUT AWAY (round of a applause please) and I made suppers that did not need to be barbecued every night this week. Woohoo!  On top of all that, the babies and I have been able to get out each day for a fun activity.

On Tuesday we went to toddler story time at the library, where Leif met the love of his life. A cute Chinese toddler walked into the children's area and Leif made a beeline for her. He stood in front of her, waved and then put his hands on her face and planted a big, wet kiss right on her lips. She was shocked and ran behind her mom's legs, but then moments later, she chased him down and did the same thing back to him . . . tee hee! It was so cute and I still chuckle when I think about it.

On Wednesday, we went to a local playgroup where I got to chat with some friends, while Leif ran around with the kids. His favourite toy was the doll stroller and he ran back and forth all morning taking his baby for a spin. Later, they made a craft. Can I just say that toddlers and crafts are a match made in heaven (even better than vanilla ice cream and apple crisp). I love how he haphazardly drizzled glue all over his construction paper and then covered that glue in feathers. They were supposed to make birds but Leif's looked more like a highway accident involving an entire flock of birds . . . tee hee! The best part, though, was the look on his face when he showed Mr. Level-Headed his craft that evening. He was so proud of it and he chattered on about it for the longest time!  

Then yesterday, the babes and I went to Brunswick Nurseries to look at the animals  . . . and the tractor. Oh, how Leif loves that tractor! We spent an entire hour walking back and forth visiting with each of the animals.

First there was the pigs. Leif would look in their pen and go:

ohhhhh, pop!

Yes, that is their poop.

Then he would creep over to the sleeping pig, crouch down, put his finger up to his mouth and go:

shhhhhhh.

Yes, the pig is sleeping.

Then we would visit the goats, the sheep, and the pony who all share a stall. He would run over to each of them and wave. Then he would ask:

Waz zhat?

That is a goat. That is a sheep. That is a pony.

Then he would hear the rooster crow. He would stop, put his hand to his ear and ask:

Waz zhat?

The rooster.

And then he would sprint over to the rooster's cage. From there we would visit the duck pond and feed the ducks some bread.

 After about 2 minutes, Leif would run back to the pigs and our rotation would begin again.

Waz zhat?

Waz zhat?

Waz zhat?

Thank goodness the tractor began dumping mulch into a customer's truck because I feared we would never be able to leave the animals. It amazes me how toddlers never seem to tire of things they love to do!

Before we headed home, we made a quick stop at the playground so that I could nurse Harriet. I love the Meenan's Cove playground because it is surrounded with sand rather than those plastic, squishy pads most playgrounds now have. They are probably safer and cleaner, but you can't play with your pails,shovels,trucks or dinosaurs in them and, after sliding and swinging, a boy, or my boy at least, likes to dig.

 Yes, I am aware that she is giving me the finger. This one is so much like her mama - saucy with a fondness for mild obscenities . . .Tee hee!

I think the babes and I have a pretty good thing going on right now. Next week, though, I really need to figure out how to squeeze in cleaning my bathrooms  . . . eeeeeek!

Have a great weekend!