Well, Hi There

Ummm... Hi.

How have you been? Remember me?

So I took a little break. Yeah. That's it. A sabbatical. A sabbatical from an oft-neglected blog.

But I miss it. So I'm going to try again. Will you come back? I hope so.

Why did I stop in the first place? Besides my short attention span to just about anything?

Well, it's complicated.

I'm going to put it all out there for you.

First of all, I was feeling a little like the only posts I could write were the funny, poke-fun-at-myself types. I like writing those, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to write other stuff. So I'm thinking the New Adventures of Jen will be a little more well-rounded

Kind of like my arse. (Oh my god. Did I really just type that?)

The blog is going to be a little more like me. All over the place. Joking, crafting, cooking, dreaming, savoring, gossiping, bragging and maybe a little bitching.

But I can promise you one thing. It won't be about my love of sports. Well, except maybe my love of drinking beer at Hockey games. I do love that.


And then, well, there was my kids. I was finding, or maybe just feeling, that people in my local sphere were holding some of the stories against me. Kind of expecting certain behaviors from them because of the stories I write about them. My kids are unique. I'm unique. We aren't vanilla. But if you can't love us, then we don't need you around. This is something I'm working on, something I need to fully embrace, but I do believe it.

And then one of the other reasons why I stopped the blog was something a little harder to talk about. Something I'm still struggling with sharing, even as I type this. You see, well one of my girls has a touch of Autism. Just a touch. For reals. Borderline. But still so,so hard to accept. And yes, at this point, almost 2 years after the diagnosis, we are in such a better place. She is doing great. Learning and making strides. And yes, I believe soon, very soon, that it won't be her diagnosis. Or the diagnosis will change to ADHD. Or just pain-in-the-arse tween. My hopes for the blog is to share a little of what we went through, to educate other parents, provide comfort to some. But that part is going to be a challenge for me. It's one of my babies after all. Will I be doing her a disservice by telling all about her? I don't know. Perhaps I will keep it more on what I went through with the diagnosis, not so much about her. We shall see.

But come along, lets see where else my adventures take me!

Random

So I've had a ton of ideas running through my head on blog posts. Little narratives that go on in my head as I go about my day. But, yeah, obviously I haven't stopped to write them down. Once again, it's been a while, huh? I wish I was one of those types that write here every day but that just isn't happening, now is it? Sorry about that.

So what's been going on here? Well, lets see:

D1 is into a full schedule of activities: preschool three days a week, dance class one morning and Soccer every Saturday afternoon. School has gotten off to a good start. And so has dance. Which, I have to tell you, I REALLY never thought I would sign up one of my girls for dance or gymnastics or anything like that. When they were babes in my arm I swore I wouldn't be one of THOSE Moms. I somehow have those activities linked with eating disorders. Yeah, I know, she's four. But that's just how I think. So I went against that self imposed law. Oh well, next thing you know I'll be signing her up for a beauty pageant. (hee hee. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth!).
Soccer isn't going quite as well. But as I keep reminding my soccer loving husband, she's four! She looks cute in her little uniform, at least.

As I'm carting D1 all over town on these activities, I've been noticing the other Moms and laughing to myself. They all seem vaguely familiar, though I don't know any of their names, or the names of their children, for that matter. But they are familiar all the same. We've all been floating around mindlessly in this little suburban bubble of ours, shuttling our kids to the playground, McDonald's, the pool, library and so on. Living parallel lives of time outs, Happy Meals and slides. Like a secret society, unknown to all, including it's members.

In addition to these activities, I've been carting D2 around as well. She seemed to be feeling a little left out, so today we started a Mommy and Me Dance class (I know! from being against dance, to joining a class myself! Just call me hypocrite!) It actually went much better than any of the other activities I participated in with D2 - so I have high hopes (which of course will come crashing down at ab0ut week # 4. )

With all these activities, what has really been taking up my time is my sweet D2. At 2 1/2 she has come crashing, thrashing and screaming into the terrible two's. From the moment she wakes up till the time she goes to bed, it is all about our battle of the wills. I know this, I know it is an important part of her growth to test her boundaries and establish her independence. But oh my god! Nothing, not even her crazy older sister prepared me for this. I am quite simply exhausted.

Mischief has become her middle name. Pouring juice onto the carpet, dumping cornstarch onto the desk, emptying shelves of it's books. And that was just one evening. She has smeared balmex all over the couch, threw poopy diapers across the room. Locked herself in my dressing room to play with my makeup. Had tantrums over the correct type of juice she wants to drink. It has been endless, and I'm just so tired!

And that my friends, is what I've been up to. As many of these things were happening, the narrative in my head was hilarious. But written too long after, it sounds rather dull. Hang in there with me, though!

Home Alone II

So, our final morning alone was quite blissful. Sleeping in, followed by more newspaper reading and coffee drinking on the couch. In honor of Father's Day I made brunch for Hubby and my Father, who would be with my Mom to drop off the girls. I even enjoyed making the breakfast - no one to whine "when will it be done" no one to trip over or supervise stirring the eggs. Just some cooking fun.

We were excited to get our baby girls back. Refreshed and enthusiastic over parenting again.

When they arrived, it was such fun to hear about their weekend away. Finding out what they did with their Mimi and Pop Pop. The new adventures they encountered. We enjoyed a nice brunch with my parents then off they went.

Hubby and I were still in relaxation mode, and the girls were happily rediscovering their toys. As we continued to read the paper, and make plans for the rest of the day, the girls played in the playroom and living room - shuttling toys between the two rooms as they often like to do.

Suddenly my little D2 walks into the room. "D2, what is that blue stuff in your hair?" CRAP! She got into the toiletry bag that my parents returned along with them! Where else is it?

And so I went into the living room to discover blue toothpaste smeared all over the wall, carpet and Hubby's beloved leather man chair (which btw, I have commandeered into the beloved Mama hiding from the rest of the family chair - but I guess that's another story!) Where was the rest of the items in the toiletry bag? What else did they get into?

And that's when I discovered it - the Benadryl bottle behind the chair. Once 3/4's full, now empty.

WHO DRANK THIS!!!
WHO?

What followed was a lot of screaming. A lot of confusion. We figured since D2 was covered in toothpaste, she must have drank the Benadryl, too. A quick call to my Mom to ask if she recalled how much was left in the bottle. Then the dreaded call to Poison Control. They were asking me for information, information easily found on the benadryl box. Why could I only see the spanish directions? "Calm down, Ma'am. Take a breath, you're upset" says the hotline operator. Ok, breathing again.

The operator advised we take D2 to the emergency room. More chaos follows. Hubby and I are not dressed, it dawns on us that we took the back seats out of the car in order to pick up D1's new mattress. Lots of tripping over one another, and yelling.

Where is D1? I search for her, and finally find her in her room. She is close to unconsciousness. OH my god! It was her. She must have drank it. Or did they both? What do we do? Who do we take to the ER? It was decided to take both of them.

Once at the ER we are immediately relieved when the nurse at the front desk tells us to take a seat. Relieved and annoyed. Hello? These are my babies! Make sure they are ok! And relieved, it must not be a big deal if they aren't taking them right away.

Once in, it becomes very clear that D2 did not have any of the Benadryl. D1, however, most definitely did. She went from barely able to walk, to cranky, to hyper as anything. The Doctor did very little. They kept her for about 6 hours to "observe" her, and then sent her home.

What a day! I now fully understand the feeling of not knowing whether to hit someone or hug them. Such a scary, scary feeling. Horrible, really. Thank the spirits above that she was fine.

And my weekend to recharge? Ha! I was back to being the harried Mom in no time! Silly Mommy....

To Eat the Apple

So, not unusually, I’m sure, my daughters LOVE to be naked. Little D2, when she manages to escape mid-diaper change, will run around slapping her hiney, gleefully chanting “bum,bum,bum!” While potty training D1, I allowed her to be naked quite a lot. She still prefers to be this way. She spends the majority of her time at home undressed, or half-dressed. I really do try to keep her clothed, especially with the colder weather. But it is a losing battle that I only half-heartedly fight. I know I have to teach her that it is not appropriate to spend your time naked. Certainly not with other children or adults, and definitely not in public, or even in the privacy of your own backyard, with others watching. I know this. I know it is our cultural ways, and this post is certainly not a pro-nudist statement on the woes of our clothed society. It is a statement on the woes of our perfectionist, beauty and body ideal obsessed society. So I apologize, my self deprecating or D2 antics are probably my better (please, be kind!) writing. This one may be a little sappy, more like a greeting card than a Jen Adventure. Consider yourself warned.

I love the absolute naturalness of their time spent without clothes. The complete lack of self consciousness. The way D2 will pause, mid play, completely naked, to stare at the TV in front of her. Holding her body in a comfortable stance. Her belly poking out, her dimply behind relaxed. Perfect. Unencumbered. Absolute beauty. D2 running around in circles, dancing, blissfully free. Before I know it, they will haven taken the bite from that apple. Self consciousness will set in. Embarrassment. The needed modesty to exist in our society. And with it, a part of their innocence. Their babyhood. Gone, forever.

What will take its place? Confidence in the capability, strength and beauty of their body, which is merely protected under clothing? Or discontent, hatred even, of the inadequacies they detect? Dimples, lack of muscles, cellulite? As someone who has battled with body image issues from a very young age, how do I raise confident, body accepting women? Will it be all my fault? Was it all my Mother’s fault for my issues? I think not. Where does it come from? Is it just a roll of the dice, a part of the way you simply are – just like a dislike of mushrooms, or a hot temper? Or is it a societal problem, starting from Disney and the Princesses, onto Hannah Montana and finally Vogue?

Is there a solution? Keep them away from all media? Please. Cinderella just seeps into them; they wake up one day, and love her. I think it’s something they put into the juice boxes of little girls. It’s simply there. Perhaps it’s up to me to introduce them to stronger women. Less physically perfect, but fierce and beautiful all the same.

I paused for a long time after that last sentence. Sad, but who are these women? Do I have to reach all the way back to Greek and Roman mythology? Do we have any present day examples? And please, not athletes. I don’t find them to be appropriate roll models, either. How upsetting, I can’t think of one.

For now, I will hold onto their little selves. Their freedom and grace. I know their perfect little bodies will carry them through amazing lives. Those bodies will be their vehicles to see, hear and feel so many amazing things. I will treasure that, for them.