I am utterly undecided about whether to have a 3rd or not. I feel like I need to just get it over and done with, because that is my dream, I want a "big" family, it's a worthwhile sacrifice because my two will get another sibling, etc. They get to grow up in a family of 3 kids. The weight of aging parents will be divided among 3 siblings, instead of two. Maybe I'll get a daughter.
But I don't want to be pregnant again. I don't want to give my body up for another 2 years. I don't want to have to go through nursing agony and baby-blues, and a c-section, and sleepless nights again. Baby food. Toilet training. Sleep training. Teething. Spit-up. Laundry. And that's all a walk in the park if I consider that I may be unlucky and have a colicky baby, or an unhealthy one, etc.
So which one is my heart? My hormones or my selfish desires? If I continue to wait, the desire will both increase and decrease, and the benefits to the kids will decrease, because the age difference increases.
And travelling with a family of 4 is easier (and cheaper) than travelling with a family of 5. Right?
Friday, 13 May 2011
bathtime?
So I used to give the kids a bath every day as part of their pre-bedtime ritual. And I used to think how gross it was that parents once upon a time would bathe their children once a week. Of course I understood that daily baths were unnecessary, but once a week? Yuck.
Well, nothing like becoming a parent to learn lessons in humility. We give our kids a bath once a week, very occasionally twice. We just don't have time otherwise. Sebastian is exhausted since starting school! And since I can't expect anything to really get done with regards to the kids until I get home, then dinner, stories, tooth-brushing and pyjamas all has to fit into between the 2 hours I have from getting home and putting the boys to sleep.
Yuck, right? Not really...
Well, nothing like becoming a parent to learn lessons in humility. We give our kids a bath once a week, very occasionally twice. We just don't have time otherwise. Sebastian is exhausted since starting school! And since I can't expect anything to really get done with regards to the kids until I get home, then dinner, stories, tooth-brushing and pyjamas all has to fit into between the 2 hours I have from getting home and putting the boys to sleep.
Yuck, right? Not really...
perpetual mother's day
So ever since last weekend, Sebastian has been wishing me Happy Mother's Day every day. What a brilliant child, I say! Of course mother's should be told "Happy Mother's Day" every day! And we mother's should learn to appreciate these special words every time they're expressed, instead of hope that only one day of the year we ought to be appreciated. In fact, I think I will ask Sebastian to give his father lessons in daily appreciation.
Hmmm....
Hmmm....
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
woe is Sebastian
He had a rough weekend. He didn't want to eat, or wash his hands, or do what his mother told him. He wanted to play catch, and monster and lots of other things, which his brother didn't understand, or his mother didn't have time to do.
He wanted to go to the windsurf school, but it was raining.
He couldn't express all his desires because he gets his languages mixed up, and he can't pronounce the letters, S, R, TH, and sometimes L. His parents don't understand him most of the time.
He wanted to watch Vai Diego, but couldn't. Everytime the TV went on, it was in the wrong language, and his parents don't know instantly what program he wants in what language.
And the worst of it, is that his mother kept yelling at him every time he got angry about the above. She yelled so often, and so loud, and even said at one point, that she didn't want to be his mother any more. She banged the door and went onto the balcony because she was so angry. He could tell that she was close to doing hurtful things to him.
Thankfully, his mother got a grip, and decided to be more patient. That was on Monday when she went to work. Some of her colleagues told her that the sufferings of 4-yr-old boys exasperate mothers a lot. No one could give those words of compassion to Sebastian though.
Now he sleeps, and heals. Woe is Sebastian no longer.
He wanted to go to the windsurf school, but it was raining.
He couldn't express all his desires because he gets his languages mixed up, and he can't pronounce the letters, S, R, TH, and sometimes L. His parents don't understand him most of the time.
He wanted to watch Vai Diego, but couldn't. Everytime the TV went on, it was in the wrong language, and his parents don't know instantly what program he wants in what language.
And the worst of it, is that his mother kept yelling at him every time he got angry about the above. She yelled so often, and so loud, and even said at one point, that she didn't want to be his mother any more. She banged the door and went onto the balcony because she was so angry. He could tell that she was close to doing hurtful things to him.
Thankfully, his mother got a grip, and decided to be more patient. That was on Monday when she went to work. Some of her colleagues told her that the sufferings of 4-yr-old boys exasperate mothers a lot. No one could give those words of compassion to Sebastian though.
Now he sleeps, and heals. Woe is Sebastian no longer.
fire-trucks, ad infinitum
Lucas has severe fire-truck fever.
He's more obsessed even than Sebastian was at the same age.
"Fire-truck" is one of the first things Lucas will say when we wakes up, and one of the last things he says before finally falling asleep. If he's not talking about fire-trucks, he is playing with them. He has about 25 fire-trucks, ranging in size, type, country of origin, siren, and state of disrepair. Every night, he needs to have one or more beside his pillow when he sleeps, and every night, it has to be a very specific fire-truck that could be in any box, drawer, room in the house, and there is no respite until I find it. It won't necessarily be the one he slept with the night before. When I tell a story at the dinner table, he wants it to be about fire-trucks. When he plays with play-dough, he wants me to sculpt one. When we are painting, drawing, playing pretend; he is always the fireman, and the fire-truck is always the first vehicle to arrive at the scene. When Sebastian wants to play monster, play catch, play "super heros," or whatever, Lucas never changes his strategy: he is always a fireman!
And if you are still not convinced of his malady, guess what he answered when I asked which of the animals in the animal book I was reading he liked best? Yup. It was the f-word indeed.
He's more obsessed even than Sebastian was at the same age.
"Fire-truck" is one of the first things Lucas will say when we wakes up, and one of the last things he says before finally falling asleep. If he's not talking about fire-trucks, he is playing with them. He has about 25 fire-trucks, ranging in size, type, country of origin, siren, and state of disrepair. Every night, he needs to have one or more beside his pillow when he sleeps, and every night, it has to be a very specific fire-truck that could be in any box, drawer, room in the house, and there is no respite until I find it. It won't necessarily be the one he slept with the night before. When I tell a story at the dinner table, he wants it to be about fire-trucks. When he plays with play-dough, he wants me to sculpt one. When we are painting, drawing, playing pretend; he is always the fireman, and the fire-truck is always the first vehicle to arrive at the scene. When Sebastian wants to play monster, play catch, play "super heros," or whatever, Lucas never changes his strategy: he is always a fireman!
And if you are still not convinced of his malady, guess what he answered when I asked which of the animals in the animal book I was reading he liked best? Yup. It was the f-word indeed.
Monday, 21 March 2011
bilingualism at its best
Current expressions from 2-and-a-half-year-old Italo-Canadese boy:
No putti via!! (i.e., "don't put it away" & "non mettere via")
Anche me. (i.e., pronounced, "anche meeeee" - mix between "anch'io" & "me too")
Me drive camon pompeii. (i.e., "I drive firetruck" & "io guido camion di pompieri")
No putti via!! (i.e., "don't put it away" & "non mettere via")
Anche me. (i.e., pronounced, "anche meeeee" - mix between "anch'io" & "me too")
Me drive camon pompeii. (i.e., "I drive firetruck" & "io guido camion di pompieri")
procrastination
Oh what a wonderful topic! My favourite! I have so much experience and insight into this... Who better than a serial deconstructing hyper-self-aware busybody to delve into this oh-so-misunderstood phenomenon.
In fact, I am on library duty now. Schedule for the night? Master's coursework homework. Reality for the moment? Delaying schedule for the night...
So what was I saying?
In fact, I am on library duty now. Schedule for the night? Master's coursework homework. Reality for the moment? Delaying schedule for the night...
So what was I saying?
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