Happy Fifth Birthday, Thing 1

Five years ago today, my precious Thing 1, you were born at 8:09 a.m. in the master bedroom of the home in which we still live.


From that moment on, our lives were to be changed forever. And then, faster than we could say "Thing 1", you turned five years old and it was almost as if someone had momentarily taken the remote of life out of the tight clutches of my fist and pressed fast forward. I can hardly believe five years have passed, yet in other ways it seems as if you have been with us for an eternity.

It's undeniable that parents - mothers especially - have a deep, intense bond with their firstborn child. As luck would have it in my case, you are evolving into a miniature version of your mother, in ways too numerous to count, or to name. (Thankfully it appears as if you father's intellect, however.)

Where could I start? You have a certain zest for life, my young boy, and a passion that carries you through each day with pizazz. Like me, you are a deeply emotional and sensitive individual. You listen carefully to those around you, to what others say, and you listen intently to those who are your friends or your family. Hurtful words can sting you and leave a lasting impression, yet words of hope, encouragement and praise can lift you up higher than the clouds. You aim to please and seek praise and love as you carry out your daily tasks and as you tackle new experiences. Yet as a loving mother, I know in my heart that you already feel and take pride in everything you do, that you yourself are proud of the flowering little plant you are each day becoming.

Watching this growth is fascinating to me. I revel in the absolute joy that is your childhood. Small and inconsequential things amaze you, as do the bigger, more rich and significant things. Yet you give them equal weight, not preferring one over the other.

You are still happiest when you are playing. You beg for "ten more minutes" to play before school, before meals, before your bath, and before bed time. The world is an unexplored game to you, and you are able to create with your vivid and expressive imagination just about anything, anywhere, at any time. Perhaps it is because I am such a creative person that I find such satisfaction in contemplating and admiring your unleashed creativity. I have never, in all my years as a babysitter, teacher, coach, parent, or friend seen a child make something out of anything. When you didn't have the latest Transformer "Bumblebee", you hardly blinked before picking out a yellow matchbox car from your toy box and christening it Bumblebee. When you became an avid Indiana Jones lover , you immediately reached into your dresser drawer for the freshly-ironed, new brown dress pants I had bought you for church and put them on "because they are exactly like Indy's". You found a crisp, white shirt in your closet and put it on without an undershirt "because Indy had a bare chest too". You searched through the special, secret box under mommy's bed for the bag that was just the right size and colour to replicate the bag that Indy carries over his shoulder on all his adventures.
I've enjoyed your journey in school this year, and am pleased to be such an integral part of it. Our walks to and from the bus stop have become special times for us to bond and discuss the intricacies of your afternoons in kindergarten. You are an extremely bright boy - something we certainly didn't need your teacher to tell us - and it is so satisfying to me as a parent to see a child of mine excel at school. You are starting to become more comfortable in French and are blurting out more and more words in la langue francaise.

I think that something that stands out to me over the past year is how much I have witnessed your maturity level flourish. Five certainly seems to be the age in which you are becoming polite, thoughtful, empathetic, and even more kind hearted than you were before. Your thought processes are deeper and on such a different level than they were when you were three or four. Conversations with you are some of the best parts of my day. Your increasingly quick wit and humour brighten up even the most difficult of days.

Although I sometimes worry that I have not enrolled you in enough activities, I know that you are still young and I take pride in the fact that you play so well with your brother. At only 18 months apart, you and Thing 2 are inseparable for the most part. He worships his big brother, and you let him . . . graciously. You're a born leader and I can see in your eyes how eager you are to teach Thing 2 the ways of the world, as seen from the eyes of a slightly older brother. You don't have to be patient and understanding (most of the time) when Things 2 or 3 take your toys, but you choose to do that. It is important to you to include them in everything you do, and that inclusiveness is what makes the three of you so close.

As much as I value our family time together, I adore our special one-on-one time. You have reached that distinguished age where it is possible to take you out in public and truly enjoy your company. We can go to movies, go the library, go out to lunch, without the worries that are attached with carrying out these tasks with a toddler or preschooler.

Happy Birthday, Thing 1. Thank you for adding that little bit of spice to our lives, for enriching each of our days, and for reminding me on a routine basis that I am, indeed, the luckiest mom in the world.

The Indiana Jones Cake

Thing 1 had his fifth birthday party on Saturday. He turns five on Thursday. I have hardly come to terms with the fact that he will be FIVE. Years. Old. Wow.

My plans to keep his party simple evolved nicely and the party was a fantastic hit!

I stayed up late Friday night putting together his Indiana Jones birthday cake. It cost me next to nothing and was ridiculously easy to make. I got the cake idea from Life As Mom, and just adapted a few parts of the recipe. Thing 1's face exploded with excitement when he saw it, which made every minute I put into it more than worth it.

As the birthday boy readied himself to blow out the candle on his cake, I reminded him to close his eyes and make a wish, and that if he were to blow the flame out, the wish might come true.

My heart strings were hardly prepared for what oozed out of his little lips next.

"I wish that everyone here will be my friends forever."

Gah. Pass the tissues, please?

We had 10 little boys over for pizza and cake and games and general craziness and chaos.

They had a blast. Chocolate-smudged lips to prove it!

After I had recovered from my post-party clean up and my blood pressure dove back down to a healthy reading, I enjoyed a cup of tea with my husband while we chatted about the amazing group of boys with whom Thing 1 is friends. They are really fantastic, and we are just so blessed to have a group of friends with such wonderful boys. We can only hope that this same group of boys is back around our kitchen table sharing a slice of chocolate cake in ten years.

Melting

Life has been unseasonably mild here in the nation's capital. After a beautiful and sunny weekend with temperatures above freezing on both days, we have seen a significant amount of our snow melting away.

We are not complaining, in any manner.

Just to put this in perspective, here is a photo taken one year ago tomorrow, right outside our home.

This was me, the first in the house to get up, surveying the damage after the storm and trying to dig out two square feet for our dog to sneak outside to use the bathroom.

When you live in Ottawa, you are ready for Spring as soon as you flip that calendar over on February 28th. You yearn for sunshine and the ability to be outside for longer than five minutes at a time. And while NOTHING could come close to how much snow we had last year, we are still eagerly counting the days until we can bare the white flesh of our toes in sandals and run freely across our front lawn.

Thus, with unbridled excitement and anticipation, the 3 Things huddled in front of our living room window to watch Daddy chip away at the sewer grate so the melting ice and subsequent water could flow underground and not flood the street.

As luck would have it, I caught a moment here between Thing 1 and Thing 3.

Thing 3 waved at her Daddy for 20 non-stop minutes. (See? She DOES have hair in the back!)

Managed a close-up of the not-sick-but-teething-red-blotchy-mouth-and-runny-nose face.

Upon asking Thing 1 to go to his room to "cool down" on Friday evening, I returned to invite him to join the rest of his family for dinner. His pre-birthday party excitement was too much. He passed out on the carpet of his bedroom. Ah, to be five again.

What am I talking about? I'd settle for 25 again!!!

Keep It Simple, Stupid

It's uncanny sometimes where a mother's priorities lie.

When Paul was laid off from his job in January, one of the first obstacles that popped into my head was the fact that we had a son turning five in March. And that he would require a birthday party of some sort. How would we pay for that??

Not . . . how will we feed and clothe ourselves or provide a roof under which our Things could safely live - no, this mama's stress level skyrocketed because of a birthday party.

Now, thankfully I have done a lot of research and have figured out a way to have this entire birthday celebration cost us very little money. We are not big "party" people and I am outspoken about not being a fan of the over-done, lavish, and ridiculously expensive children's birthday parties that are taking place on a regular basis around the globe. So this wasn't a stretch for us, although I did want to take extra measures to keep us within budget.

Here are some simple tips:

1. Make your own invitations. Better yet - send them online or use e-vite. Have your child help - you can use paint, crayons, chalk, sponges or any simple craft materials to create a simple, personal invitation in a few minutes. I made this very basic card out of stamps and cardstock that I already had on hand at home. Nothing too flashy or complicated, and a set of ten took me about 45 minutes. So far the response I've had from the parents who have received them has been fantastic. People always appreciate that extra personal touch.


2. Make your own cake. I rarely attempt this myself, but I found a cake for Thing 1's Indiana Jones' themed party that appears to be fool-proof. I think that even I can make this. I found a design at a local bakery, but it was going to cost close to $50. No thanks.

3. Plan party activities that don't cost money. It was easy to find Indiana Jones inspired games and activities online when I googled it. I got some great ideas and plan to do an obstacle course and have the children search for hidden "treasure". Some of the tips I came across were very indepth and totally overboard, but it is easy to take any idea and simplify it.

4. Keep food inexpensive. When asked what his choice was for lunch, Thing 1 insisted he wanted to order pizza from his very favourite pizza shop around the corner. If it were my other son, I'd make the pizza myself and he'd be happy, but since this tends to be the only pizza that Thing 1 enjoys, we will splurge on the pizza. A couple of pizzas are not going to run us into the poor house, and I assume all the children will be happy.

5. Don't go crazy on the loot bags. I'm dumbfounded by how much crap parents are sending home with kids in their birthday party lootbags. Remember when you were a kid and you got a pencil, a balloon and a stick of gum and you were elated? Not anymore, people. Loot bags are big business. And since I am anti-crap, I took the $5.00 per kid I would have spent on junk and bought each child a Lego fireman or policman, as pictured in the picture below. (They don't sell the Lego Indiana Jones characters separately, or I'd have been all over that like Raiders of the Lost Ark.)

My Things are obssessed with little "guys" and carry them around with them everywhere and play with them non-stop. I've noticed a few of their friends share this obssession, and I assume each little boy will be pretty excited to go home with a new little city employee of his own. And I can't take credit for this fabulous idea, my friend Julia did this at her son's party last fall, only she sent them home with Playmobil knights. Thing 1 and Thing 2 played with their knights for three months solid, every single day. And they still bring them out at least twice a week.

I didn't mention decorations, because we plan on just keeping it simple. A few balloons and a Happy Birthday sign that I already have will be perfect for a bunch of four and five year old boys.

So it appears we will celebrate Thing 1's birthday this Saturday, completely within our budget and with stress levels in check.

Stay tuned for results of the my temple making debut . . .

We Feelin' Better

I'd like to extend my apologies for the lack of interesting and thought-stimulating content on my blog the past few weeks. The never-ending sicknesses, unemployment woes, and general harsh winter climate in which we live have rendered my abilities just short of useless.

The end, however, may be in sight.

My three Things are on the mend and are looking and feeling much better.

A huge thanks go out to everyone who commented, e-mailed, and twittered me with well wishes and kind thoughts for Thing 3. Yes, she has indeed turned a corner and is looking like she has almost kicked her pneumonia for good. She snuck in a few smiles over the weekend, a sure sign that better days are upon us.

Back to exercising her climbing abilities . . .

And sticking stuff in her mouth . . .

Did you know Spiderman gets his super spidey abilities from eating a daily portion of blueberries???

I can't believe they're gonna make me eat this stinkin' puddin'.

A really long scarf keeps everyone's necks warm.

Sick Baby, Round Three

As I gently pushed the bedroom door ajar and slid into Thing 3's bedroom to check on her for the umpteenth million time yesterday afternoon, she finally peeked her fuzzy little disheveled head over her crib rails. I'd had a bad feeling all afternoon, as my little sick baby napped for over five hours for the fifth day in a row. That kind of "this can't be good at all" feeling that a mother occasionally gets when things are, indeed, not good at all.

I gently laid her poor, limp body on her change table only to open her diaper and find a dirty little surprise had made it's appearance during her marathon sleep session. It was nasty enough for me to scoop her up and take her to the bathroom for a nice, warm bath.

Mommy-worry struck me like a slap in the face.

She looked awful. Lethargic, listless, and completely "out-of-it". I prayed the bath would rejuvenate my little girl and bring some zest back to those piercing blue eyes.

Not the case.

Her fussiness increased after her bath and even after I nursed her she proved to be agitated and unhappy. As supper time was approaching, I placed her in her high chair to give her a snack while I put together the final preparations for our dinner. She instantly fell asleep. Mommy-worry plagued me once again as the sense that "none of this seems right" began to overwhelm me. My thought processes were clouded. Realizing I hadn't taken her temperature since before her nap, I ran to grab our thermometer and bring it back to the kitchen.

The first reading was 41.6 degrees Celsius. Not a metric lover? That's 106.8 degrees Fahrenheit!! Several more readings showed marginally lower temps than that, although each them ranked in the very dangerous category. I called my mother-in-law (who was a nurse for years and years and also a midwife) and she arrived on our doorstep in minutes. Her diagnoses was not good, and for the second time in four days, I bundled up my precious little girl and hauled her to the hospital.

The silver lining?

When your kid is that sick, you don't have to wait in the waiting room in Emergency. The kind and compassionate triage nurse will make a call and you will hear "Level Two baby at Triage" over the loudspeaker and soon two nurses will come and whisk you and the child away. We were instantly sent to an observation area where we had our own bed and several nurses and doctors working on us.

I am included in the "us" part of this because it is the mother's responsibility to pin the baby down so that the nurses can carry out some of the more unpleasant medical procedures. It is also up to mommy to administer all doses of medication and to hold the mask to the child's mouth when she is receiving oxygen and breathing treatments.

After several hours of observation, breathing treatments, and successfully reducing Thing 3's fever, we were permitted to go home for the night. Exhausted. Mentally and physically depleted. With no more energy than a tiny, squished up ant on hot, sizzling pavement.

Her diagnosis was pneumonia or bronchitis - her doctor said it was hard to tell from her x-ray and they didn't want to run any more tests on her (the x-ray they looked at was the one she had taken when I took her in on Sunday night). We were able to keep her fever down today, and overall she is brighter, more alert, and coming close to resembling her perfectly regular little self.

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Did someone say popcorn?

Were you - like me - a closet Dawson's Creek watcher back in the day?

If you were, you may be interested in checking out Joshua Jackson's new movie, One Week.

And if you live in Ottawa (and I KNOW many of you do because on occasion I check my blog stats) you could possibly catch this new flick. For free.

Check out Andrea's blog "A Peek Inside the Fishbowl" for a chance to go to one of two viewings. I'm planning on going next Thursday, March 5th. I'm kind of excited. (I don't get out much.)

And just a quick note to let everyone know that we had to take our beloved Thing 3 for her very first hospital visit late yesterday. Poor baby had a frighteningly high fever and was listless and really out of it. I rushed her to the ER and after multiple unpleasant tests and six hours of hanging out at a packed hospital with a sick baby, the doctors were able to diagnose a "serious respiratory infection". "Probably not pneumonia, but maybe just a little bit."

In five years and three children, this is the sickest any of mine have been. I have been one worried mama. She slept 5 hours yesterday and then again today. We are controlling her fever and hoping tomorrow will be a bit better. Keep her in your thoughts.

Boredom: We've Hit an All-Time Low

You may be asking yourself, "I wonder how bored one can possibly get after two months of icy, snowy, cold and wet winter weather with a house full of sick kid(s)??".

It's an excellent question.

I assure you, the monotony can get to one quickly.

"Hey, we can't go outside and due to our current economic situation we are limited in our choices of indoor winter activities, so why not have a cloth diaper fashion show and dance around in our little sister's dipes?"

"Cool idea big bro. I'm with ya."

Cutest tushies. Out there.

WW - The Laziest Winter Morning Ever

No shots of Thing 1 this morning, he was nudie today and that is clearly not blog-appropriate.

Middle Child Syndrome

It was a cold, icy, nearly-winter night in December of 2007 when we arrived at my good friend's annual Christmas bash. I was round and glowing and crippled with heartburn - all signs I was in my eighth month of pregnancy (with our now-walking-everywhere Thing 3). I gazed around the room at all my non-pregnant friends looking fabulous and glamorous and sipping wine or martinis or other fun drinks from beautiful cocktail glasses. Things 1 and 2 were home in bed, sleeping soundly while our babysitter watched cable galore on our TV and ate the snacks we left her. It was the perfect holiday evening.

Until.

Some of the people at this party I didn't see on a regular basis. I mean, let's face it. Many of us are parents now and are overly absorbed and immersed in our kids' lives, activities, and the whole mommy gig. I knew there would be people who didn't know I was pregnant. I was accustomed to the standard, "woah - you're pregnant *again*?" and didn't even flinch at "have you heard of condoms, sweetie?". I was armed with a retort for "how many more do you think you'll have?" and kept my emotionless face on hand for "I bet you hope they won't all go to college".

What I was not, in any shape or form, ready for was what was thrown my way by my friend M's husband.

He and his wife have two children. We chatted briefly about having two children versus having three children. I should mention at this point that it had literally been two nights prior to the party that I had stopped having debilitating panic attacks in the middle of the night and had assured myself that, yes, I could potentially handle being a parent to three children.

"I would never have a third child."

My eyes began to expand, in that way they do when panic seeps into them, and then kind of explodes inside my head. My jaw hit the floor like a Mack truck as I used my calm voice to ask him what his reasons were. Knowing intuitively that I didn't want to hear them.

"Because I wouldn't want to subject the second kid to middle child syndrome."

Being an utterly clueless sibling to only one, I thought to myself, "what the hell is this guy talking about?".

Fast forward to today. I am completely stricken with guilt for having had the nerve to have three children, one of which at some point in the distant future may require lengthy therapy sessions to deal with the repercussions and effects of middle child syndrome. I mean, seriously, this stuff is well documented out there. I had no idea. Until I started having some issues with Thing 2 and I found my fingers suddenly googling "middle child" and "middle child syndrome".

While not particularly comforting, I did find this article informative and frighteningly accurate. And as I stumbled upon references to the middle child "having the sense of not belonging", and "fighting to receive attention from parents because they feel they are being ignored", I wondered if I had sealed Thing 2's fate the day Thing 3 was conceived.

Before delving into my search for information, answers, and a shred of hope for the "middle child syndrome", I had suffered several stressful weeks trying to decide how to deal with Thing 2's horrendous behaviour. He has been beyond out of control lately. I found myself saying things like, "he seems lost . . . like he doesn't know where his place is", and "where is this attention-seeking behaviour coming from?", not knowing these were apparently catch phrases applicable to any middle child.

Obviously, I jest. I realize you can't dole out a cookie cutter label to your child because you read it on the Internet, but some of the similarities between what I have read and what is going on here, is uncanny.

In the short term, I am working hard to focus on Thing 2's strengths, like his fireball personality and his *passion* for life. And when the full-fledged screaming, kicking, defiant, out-of-control Thing 2 rears his ugly head, I find solace in this.

You may be driving me completely batty, oh middle child of mine, but I still love you forever.

Any words of wisdom for those who have experience with a middle child?

And she walks . . .

I understand that our PR people have already leaked our latest little bombshell of news, but for official blog purposes . . . Thing 3 is a walker!!

This lovely lady is far more delicate and cautious than her big brothers when it comes to taking those first baby steps. While she is extremely steady standing unassisted, (and has been for months) she only started to walk all by her proud little self in the past week.

But it's really, really cute.

I had been pretty happy and filled with all that mom-oozing-joy-from-heart stuff until Paul so carefully pointed out to me that, "this is the last time we'll see one of our babies take their first steps".

Uh, right. Great, now I'm bawling and want a vasectomy reversal.

Kidding.

"Hey ma, check me out. I can wave this spoon around while walking. No other kid on the block can do this."

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Love is in the air . . .

Part of being involved with a co-operative preschool comes the responsibility of having to volunteer as a parent in the classroom once every couple of months. I actually really love this aspect of our membership, as it gives the school a real sense of "community" and allows me to actively participate in Thing 2's preschool experience.

And, more importantly, to spy on him.

I lucked into getting scheduled to volunteer tomorrow, which is the preschool class' Valentine party. What could possibly be cuter than 20 three-year-olds fumbling around trying to hand out red and pink doily-like valentines to the correct little preschooler? And getting so incredibly excited that they could burst at the prospect of having their own *mailbox* chalk full of brightly coloured cut-outs?

I wouldn't miss it for the world.

OK, I would. Since Paul has recently found himself a little more available during the day, I offered to let him go fill in our parent volunteer responsibilities tomorrow morning. He doesn't often get a chance to see Thing 2 in action at preschool, and this could be his last opportunity if he nabs a new work gig in the next little while.

So I whipped up some chocolate cupcakes (egg, nut, and dairy-free, of course - yeah, it took me a while to perfect this recipe) . . .

. . . then whipped up an easy Martha buttercream icing recipe and slapped on a red heart and BAM I call these Valentine cupcakes.


To further save money I made these cute little Valentines for all of Thing 2's friends at preschool - using stamps and materials I already had on hand at home.

My sappy heart is already swelling with pride and oozing with excitement to hear how the big day goes. Thing 2 candidly asked me this afternoon if I would like to be his Valentine. Silly question, because that's a role I took on the minute he was born.

One step forward, two steps back

It's Tuesday evening. And with the monotonous blur that this tenth day of February seems to elicit, it seems like an appropriate time to extend my apologies for the barren-like quality of my blog lately.

Things in blog-land - along with my creative juices - came to a screeching halt a couple weeks ago as our family came head to head with a number of unexpected and less-than-desirable struggles.

As we dug our heels in and conquered colds with cough, a repulsive and vile stomach flu, a garage door stricken with the inability to close in sub-zero temperatures, some problematic yet perplexing behavioural issues in Thing 1 and Thing 2, and a completely and utterly unexpected lay-off from Paul's employer, documenting and exploring my life online was rendered futile.

A dizzying mix of panic and despair settled into my heart and our life circumstances, coupled with Ottawa's seemingly ridiculous winter weather, managed to put a real damper on my spirit.

After several days of not feeling that typical "let's tackle this head on" attitude that I usually embrace when I am thrust into crisis mode, I decided whole heartedly that it was time to reach across my bedside table and grab my very worn and very loved copy of The Secret. I haven't read it in ages, yet I somehow find solace and comfort in simply knowing it lies there beside me at night, as if its proximity would perhaps protect me and simultaneously remind me that I can truly have, be, and do anything I want in life.

And, so, together as a team our family of Things moves forward, comforted by the faith that the universe and God have a plan in store for us. And warmed by the fact that we are blessed and that we have the most important thing . . . we have each other.

And, really, who wouldn't feel properly equipped to learn the true magnificence that awaits her in life in this cute matching hat and scarf set knit by her dear mother?