Pretty Girl

Ceilidh's been outgrowing her clothes at a fast pace, so I've gone shopping for more clothing. Also, it took me a bit to get over the fact that both her and Devlin are wearing the same size! So this week she's been wearing all of her new outfits, and oohing and aahing over the "pretty" shirts. She also had her hair trimmed on the weekend. When Grandma arrived earlier this week, the first question out of Ceilidh was, "Grandma, look at my hair and clothes. Do I look pretty?" Of course Grandma's response was in the affirmative.
Over the holidays, as she sat in her Christmas dress, Uncle Billy said to her, "Ceilidh, you're very pretty!" Her response, in a haughty tone, was "Yes, I know!" which elicited all sorts of amused laughter from the adults.
For a brief moment, I wondered about the effect of these compliments on her ego, and then told myself "Who cares?!". I'd rather she have an over-inflated opinion about herself at this young age, because there will be many, many times in the future where her self-esteem and self-image will be tested.
There's a huge movement to boost positive self-images about girls' bodies, and the rising rates of eating disorders are scary. The beauty campaigns by Dove is just one example of the fight to get away from our skin-deep beauty obsessed society. There are so many diet aids, and diet products all aimed at transforming our bodies to some media ideal, which is pretty unrealistic for the majority of the human race. Okay, maybe there's a movement to be healthy too, as being overweight is not great on the heart. But the other day I heard a commercial promoting a cosmetic surgery clinic here in the GTA. The catch line was like "Change the way people look at you and treat you!" There are a couple lines from a male voice stating "Umm, I don't think I can make it", and then another saying "Where and when?", or something to that effect. The message is pretty clear - if you're ugly, or perceive yourself to be ugly, then you won't have a social life. How WRONG is that!!! (Besides, at some point, the "before" pictures will surface. Even if you get rid of any evidence of your life pre-surgery, don't you think he'll get an idea when he meets the rest of the family? Or, what about the when the babies come? Surgery doesn't alter DNA.)
Yes, I worry about my children's self-esteem. I don't want them to ever question their own self-worth. I want them to believe they have the ability to effect change in whatever manner they wish. I want them to believe they are absolutely beautiful in their own, unaltered forms. I want them to be strong-willed, be of solid character and be proud of who they are as individuals. To that effect, we try - as parents - to praise their efforts, no matter how small. We try to encourage without nagging. We try to instruct without taking over. We also try to be examples with our own efforts in life - working hard, reading books, staying fit and healthy, while partaking in all sorts of physical activities with the children.
I remember reading the story of a teen aged girl in Burlington or Oakville who under breast augmentation surgery. Her dad was the one who supported it, believing it would help with her self-esteem problems. Wow, he was so misguided. Where did he think her self-esteem problems came from? What about examining the home and family life? If you think bigger boobs means better body image, then there's a problem with you approach to life, in my humble opinion. What if the boob job doesn't fix the issue? Will she get more plastic surgery, like actress Heidi Montag? What about accepting yourself as you are, and celebrating in the uniqueness that makes you YOU?

Gender Roles?

Over the holidays, we took the children to some indoor playgrounds. Partly to give the kids an outlet for their energy, and partly to give the grandparents a break from the noise and nuttiness. One of the play places had a little town set up, complete with a grocery store, kitchen/diner, laundromat, doctor's office, school, and workshop. In addition, there was a stage for a puppet show, a couple of climbing apparatuses, various foot powered cars, two Thomas the Train wooden train tables, a soft cushion play area, musical instruments and a stage to showcase their talent. It was a wonderful place to spend several hours. Aisling loved climbing onto the various playsets and sliding down, while Devlin gravitated towards the train sets. Ceilidh made a bee line for the "mini town". What was interesting was observing her modelling adult behaviour, in particular stereotypical gender roles. She pushed a shopping cart around and filled it with "groceries", then spent some time in the toy car, stopping for "gas" at the pump. Then she found a baby doll and carried it around while unloading the groceries. At first, I would think that she was role modelling me. but then I watched as she went into the laundromat and started to "iron" the clothes. Hilarious, because in our household, I do NOT iron. That's Daddy's job.
Then Devlin abandoned the trains for the "workshop". Maybe something he's picked up from watching Wayne work on our deck. Or maybe from watching Bob the Builder since he was adept at putting on the yellow hard hat and the tool belt.
Do children learn to model "adult" behaviours from the parents? Do they learn specific roles from television? Does television bombard our children with stereotypical gender roles? For example, women do the shopping and take care of babies while men carry the big construction tools? The commercials obviously cater to the traditional gender roles. How often do we see a commercial for laundry soap with a male actor (unless he's the one wearing the really dirty clothes), or an ad for beer geared to women? Ever see a baby food or baby formula commercial with a "dad" in the advertisement?
While I was theorizing about the gender roles with Wayne, Devlin and Ceilidh then moved to the kitchen area. What we observed next threw my theories out the window. Ceilidh sat down at the table and ordered, while Devlin rushed around to "serve" her. (As an aside, why is it that Ceilidh is more than happy to pretend eat the vegetables, but won't dream of touching the real thing unless coaxed/ bribed/ threatened?) Again a role reversal from the usual way of life in our household.
Throughout this all, Aisling was happy to climb and hoist herself all over the place. She slid down the big kids' slide and quickly declared her boredom with her age-appropriate play area. She wasn't at all interested in the mini town area, except to grab a baby doll out of its doll sized stroller, and try to get into the stroller herself!

Winter Fun

Here's one great reason to have children - you can act like a kid yourself during the winter! Over the weekend, we took all the children tobogganing at the neighbourhood park. It was so much fun. Since there wasn't a lot of snow on the ground, the downhill speed was a bit slower, which meant Aisling wasn't frightened on her first foray into this winter past time. She loved the whole experience, although she was quite chilled by the time we called it quits. Well, the adults called an end to the fun because it was getting quite tiring to climb up the hill while dragging a loaded sled. Devlin and Ceilidh kept begging for one more time.
The older kids also had ice skating lessons on Sunday, which meant one of the adults had to go on the ice with Ceilidh. Since Daddy got the aching back last week, it was Mommy's turn this week. And surprisingly, I didn't end up with a sore back because Ceilidh seems to be getting the hang of it. Not as many tumbles on the ice, and a few moments where she was moving on her own without me holding onto her.
The children are hoping for more snow and more tobogganing next weekend. They're quite disappointed they haven't been able to build a snow man yet. Or have a snowball fight with mommy and daddy. And the best part of the winter activities? It really tires the kids out so they're sound asleep early, which means mommy and daddy finally get to enjoy some quiet time and a bottle of vino.

Mean Mommy?

You know those days when your kid is acting horribly, and you've exhausted your usual repertoire of disciplinary actions, and child is still terrible, and you have to resort to something you've threatened but never actually carried out? While your actions as the parent may have the desired effect (i.e. obedient, tame child), you're left wondering if you're a horribly mean parent for having carried out the punishment, or if you're horribly ineffective as a parent because you had to resort to this measure and because you have a terribly misbehaving child, or if you've bitten more than you can chew because you decided to have children, or if you even deserve to have children at all? Come on, we've all been there! If you haven't, I don't want to talk to you anymore!
So last night, Devlin was acting up. In fact, the misbehavin' started from the moment he woke up in the morning. There's a children's book titled "Alexander's terrible, no good day". Well, we could have written one that was entitled "January 5 - Devlin's terrible, horrible, no good day".
He said he received a time-out at school but was unable to tell me why. Our nanny reported he didn't nap in the afternoon. He was whiny during dinner, although he ate without complaint. He dawdled getting ready for gymnastics. He yelled when asked to get ready a bit more quickly. He ended up on the naughty stool for a time out and screamed the entire time. He even threw himself on the floor. We debated on skipping gymnastics given his behaviour. In hindsight, we should have, but gymnastics tires them out, and the classes aren't all that cheap. So, off we went. His listening skills were horrible, and he ended up missing out on the trampoline because of his misbehaving. He even refused to leave the gym and Daddy had to physically carry him out. Daddy felt he deserved a good spanking or some significant time on the naughty stool - which had already proven to be ineffective earlier.
On the drive home, he was asked what his punishment should be for his actions. He replied, "Take me back to the hospital."
A bit of background - I was once threatened to take him back to the hospital where he was born because I was sure there was a switch-up at the hospital. I told him there was no way I could have given birth to such a misbehaving unruly child. I told him I'd return him, and find my new baby and he could look for his real parents. It's kind of like the threat where my parents told me they'd leave me under the bridge from whence they found me.
Well, I was tired, and fed up with his mouthiness, so I dropped off Ceilidh and Daddy at the house, and drove to the hospital. There was some whimpering from the back row, but no protest. We made it all the way into the parking lot of the emergency room before Devlin begged me to take him home, all the while promising to be a better listener. We had a discussion about his talking back, his attitude, and his tantrums. He even provided some insight into his bad actions - he said he didn't take a nap and he was tired. I drove back home.
So, am I a horribly mean mother who probably broke all the rules of discipline as set out in Supernanny, Nanny 911, Be a Better Parent, Dr. Spock's Child Rearing and Discipline, Raising Happy and Healthy Children? Or am I your average mommy who's tired, over worked, desperate, and sometimes has to resort to creative or wacky methods of discipline. (Same ones that were used on her as a child, and I turned out okay, didn't I?)

Feeling crummy...

It's one of those mornings when you're feeling as crummy as the grey skies outside. Why? Because I'm a mother.
Because I'm a mom to three beautiful children who were upset that Mommy had to leave for work.
Because I was ready to leave on time (for once!) and I impatiently snapped at my teary eyed 3 year old to stop whining when all she wanted was Mommy to stay home with her.
Because I had to lecture my 5 year old about his early morning temper tantrum and his poor attitude while buttoning up my coat. Because I couldn't say "screw work", take off my coat, and roll around on the couch with the kids and tickle them into smiles and giggles.
Because my hugs at the door weren't enough to fix their morning grumpies.
Because the last image I have of my children this morning is their tear-filled eyes (Ceilidh), sulky frown (Devlin) and a tiny hand waving bye-bye (Aisling).
Because I can't concentrate on my tasks here at the office when I'm imprisoned under a cloud of the "working mom guilt".

Back to Routine

If I was ever worried that the holidays and the relaxed schedule would result in children sleeping late on a Monday morning, I shouldn't have wasted my energies.
I was tired this morning as I dragged myself out of a warm bed and trudged down to the basement to work out. Before I was finished, I was joined by Devlin who wanted to watch. Then Ceilidh. A very short time later, Aisling toddled down the stairs with her bottle while rubbing her eyes sleepily. Not even 7 am yet.
Hopefully all 3 will nap in the early afternoon. Otherwise, we'll have 3 very cranky kids this evening.

Pee-pee twins

Devlin is not night time trained. He sleeps very soundly and does not feel the urge to empty his bladder. We've tried to waking him in the middle of the night to pee, but he refuses, and throws a tantrum about being woken up. His cries, of course, then wake the other two. He will, however, awake when his pull-up leaks. We do make him pee before bedtime at least twice. He usually doesn't have a drink in the last hour before sleep. But he still pees in the middle of the night. We will soon resort to more drastic measure, like taking away the pull up completely. But not yet. When the weather is warmer, and he can do with sleeping with only a light blanket to reduce the amount of laundry that will inevitably result.
Ceilidh, on the other hand, does not wet the bed. It's rare occasion if she pees in the middle of the night. In fact, she doesn't wear pull-ups at night. Even as an infant, she rarely wet her diaper at night, but filled it up within 30 minutes of waking in the morning. So, there was no real nighttime training with her. Her biology just led to nighttime dryness.
Once in a blue moon, she will wet the bed. When she's extremely tired. We had one of those nights when we were visiting the grandparents over the holidays. Ceilidh had stayed up late, watching movies with grandma. She was quite tired when she went to sleep. She also had a lot of milk before falling asleep.
The next day, Uncle Billy asked her what happened. Ceilidh shrugged, and answered, "I don't know. I just peed."
Uncle Billy pointed at her and Devlin and said, "You're definitely brother and sister - both peeing in bed."
Devlin piped up, "Well, we're twins, you know!"