Starting them young!

Parenting is all about teaching little people to become responsible, self-sufficient bigger people. So we yell and nag the under 18 years crowd to do their homework, make their bed, pour their own milk, empty out the garbage, scrub the toilets, fold their own laundry, and generally become less needy.
Hopefully, in a few years, we'll have a success story.
In the meantime, I've got some proof that our methods are working. Somewhat.
Quinn, and all the rest of my underlings, have been very good at putting their dirty laundry into the laundry basket. That's the very first "task" or chore we've taught them.
Tonight, Quinn demonstrated he's mastered another "chore".
After dinner, he grabbed his empty plate off the table, and toddled his way into the kitchen, and pitched it into the sink. He returned for his dirty cutlery and also threw into the sink. Thank gawd he's still using plastic dishware, but, hey, one less plate for Mommy to clear after dinner! He's learning by observing his older siblings. Awesome.
Too bad the potty training is not going as well. The whole learn by observation? Not so much.

Quality Time

Definition of OMG! WTF? - Ceilidh's 10,000 rainbow loom rubber bands falling all over the kitchen floor when her brand new case (that holds all the bands in colour coded compartments) opened because it wasn't shut properly.

Definition of cooperation - having her two siblings and two parents on their hands and knees picking up and sorting the bloody bands.

It took close to an hour, lots of bad jokes, much groaning and moaning about aching knees and backs, a few renditions of "Everything's awesome" a la Lego Movie, before the bands were put back into their proper compartments.

Lofty Goals Indeed!

Typical Saturday morning chaos at the zoo - one kid back from hockey practice, remnants of toddler's breakfast on the table, Saturday paper strewn about the dining room table, Mommy back from early grocery trip and attempting to put away week's supplies, one kid whining about the lack of fun scheduled for the day, another kid being told to get ready for hockey...
As I was pulling the package of strawberries out of Quinn's grip, I caught a whiff of the unpleasant.
I asked spouse to change the poopy diaper.
Spouse took his time in gathering up diaper supplies, and Quinn took advantage. He ran to the table with a bowl of strawberries, and joined his siblings. To their utter dismay!
"Yuck - you stink! Someone change Quinn! He smells!" came the plaintive cries.
"I'm working on it," says Daddy.

Finally, Daddy gets down to business.
"Whoa, that's gross," comments Devlin.
"One day, you'll be a father, and you'll have to change diapers too. So get used to it," counsels his father while struggling to keep over-active toddler still.
"No way, I'm going to get an important job and be too busy to change diapers," announces Devlin, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"Well, you better do better in math if you want a great job!" retorts his Dad.

Aisling put in her two cents' worth, "I'm going to tell my husband to change ALL the diapers!"

Rookie Mistake

As a mother to four kids, I've changed a gazillion diapers. If you lined up the number of diapers I've changed in the past 9 years end to end, I'm sure they'd circle the earth a few times, or at least the span the distance to the moon and back.

In swapping a soiled diaper or a clean one, whether cloth or disposable (yes, there was a time when I was environmental or frugal or simply sleep-deprived delusional), I've managed to perfect the technique and the length of time it takes. I've had to change a baby outside in the freezing cold at a frisbee game, in a moving car (the car was moving was moving slowly due to an accident on the highway, there was no where to pull over, and the stench was suffocating us), in a tiny airplane bathroom while experiencing mild turbulence. Name the situation, I've done it. And yes, I'm one of those moms who made a "political" statement about the lack of change tables at a chain coffee shop by changing a toddler at a table in plain view of everyone.

As we're nearing the end of diapers (I hope soon), I made a rookie mistake. I will blame it on the pint and half of Keith's I had just consumed. I had Quinn on the change table. I slid the fresh diaper underneath, and unfastened the wet one. I pulled the old diaper away, and instead of taping him up, I turned away for brief moment while looking for the trash can. When I looked down at Quinn, I realized the error of my ways. He had peed - all over the clean diaper, the change pad, and apparently me. The waist of his shirt was soaking up the pee as I stared at his innocent smile while he exclaimed "I pee?!"

At least, I packed a few extra diapers. No change of clothes though.

Which goes to show there's always a first time for everything, even for this "experienced" mom of four.

One of those moments, or days...

I love my kids, I really do, 99% of the time.

But...

There are times I understand why moms drink to cope.

And why mothers eat their young in the wild.

Day 1 of March Break

It's only the afternoon, but I'm exhausted. Maybe I shouldn't have drank so much alcohol last night, but I needed to get this March Break off to a good start, for me that is. So, being hung over is probably not a great thing when I've got to the kids off to swimming lessons first thing in the morning.
But being on vacation and being at home with the kids also means getting to enjoy the simpler pleasures, like putting Quinn down for his afternoon nap.
As we cuddled on the bed, I watched his hands as they stroked his stuffed lamb, and fingered the tag and clutched at stray threads. I reflected on how he's always managed to soothe himself through these tactile methods. Just like his older brother Devlin, who would get his fingers all knotted in and amongst the yarn of his knitted baby blanket. Eventually, that blanket had to be retired since we couldn't manage to re-knit all of the holes he'd put in. Grandma knitted a much smaller version, and Devlin still carries it around and sleeps with it. I'm sure it'll make the trip to university with him one day.
The girls were never dependent on any stuffed animals or security blankets. Oh, they'll sleep with various stuffies but they're fickle. The girls don't stay loyal to any one particular stuffed doll or toy. The only constant is their Daddy as their sleeping companion.
Then I felt a tug that pulled me out of my reverie. It was Quinn, whose wandering hands had found my necklace. As his eyelids began to droop, his fingers twisted and tugged at the chain and fiddled with the diamond pendant. Eventually, his hands stilled as his breathing became heavy, but the grasp didn't loosen. So, I cuddled my baby a little while longer, until the thundering footsteps of his older siblings reminded me of other pressing engagements.

Multi-tasking or Multi-functional?

Remember that John Mayer song, "Your body is a wonderland", or something like that?

That's how I felt this morning. But not in that way.

Usually I'm up early to exercise without any little people interrupting me. But with the time change and a jam packed day before, it was hard to drag myself down to the basement before the household woke up. So I lazed around in bed while Quinn climbed all over me, and got hugged by Devlin, and alternately kicked and snuggled by Aisling.
I eventually made my way downstairs for some me-time. I was almost through a great, sweat-pouring, heart pounding session of cardio, when Quinn decided to join in. While I was working my way through a few plank based exercises, Quinn was using my back and legs as a racetrack for his cars. And when in child's pose at the end, I then became his "horsey"!

Laying on the Guilt

Ceilidh is all over the Rainbow Loom Craze. Within a few short days of receiving the kit for Christmas, she had used up all of the supplied rubber bands. Every member of the family sported several different coloured bracelets and rings.
Mommy had to re-stock the bands, and Ceilidh then discovered that You Tube had a library of Rainbow loom videos on various crafts. She's weaved a colourful snake and left it on my pillow (ugh!), little purses for dolls, a backpack for the mini stuffed animals, and is now attempting a cell phone case.
And, again, she's in need of more rubber bands.
I promised her I would purchase the bands when I had the chance, which wasn't soon enough for her.
"Really Ceilidh, Mommy is very busy at work and at home, and I haven't had the chance to stop at Michael's yet!" I stated in a very exasperated tone after being bugged the gazillionth time in a day.
"When I get 30 minutes to myself this week (which really is NEVER), I promise I will go and buy them," I vowed as I folded the laundry while checking over someone's homework.
"I know, Mommy. Thank you. I know it's hard being our Mom, so thank you," Ceilidh said in a very nice voice while hugging me tightly.

Yeah, of course, that made me feel *that* big. So, the very next day, after spending two hours in traffic, I came home, took over the chauffeuring duties so I could pop into Michael's to purchase the promised bands.