No limits to imagination

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I remember someone once said to me “One day you need to grow up. Let the kids do those things and you do the mom stuff.”
I thought I had to wear some mask to hide some part of myself I had away because I am a mom.
Should I pretend to not enjoy watching cartoons with my kids while eating snacks with them?
Should I stop drawing or liking cool figurines cause someone else thinks they are childish?
Should I pretend to not want to sing in a band for fun at least once, or learn to play drums because I think it’s cool?
Maybe I should lock away the light saber away until they can play with it. (Yes that’s right…light saber.)
No. I think NOT.
There should be no age limit to having imagination and growing creatively.

A Glimpse


Im not really a funny person but to my little kids, anything can make them laugh. I get away with being silly and weird without them rolling their eyes out of embaressment.

It’s these little moments like this that made me think, at least im still cool in their eyes. I know when they are teenagers they will probably be different.

For now, they haven’t discovered that their mom is completely silly and nerdy. Shhhhh…

And the day begins…

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It was a nice calm breakfast or so I thought. Right as Jon left for work, the minute he closed the door, it was a whole new scene in the kitchen. Olivia dropped her bowl of cheerios on the floor and laughed while she was playing with the spilled milk on her tray.
Yes, this is a common toddler thing to do, then add a crying baby in the scene then the room becomes another chaotic mess.

It felt like a jungle in the kitchen. Your own thoughts become muted to the noise of the kids screaming. I say to myself, why is it always when he leaves for work the chaos begins. It wasn’t even 8 am yet. I would already be sending him a text asking him when he would be coming home. Yet, he wouldn’t know because he just arrived at work.

It is another overwhelming day.

As I stare at the cheerios on the floor while she laughs and continues making more of a mess, I get the broom and mop and clean it. Olivia would laugh and say, “mommy clean mess.” I started to tear up. I am a mom, crying over spilled cheerios. However, this isn’t the first time cleaning messes, maybe it is the 3495th time (random number, no I haven’t kept count) this happens. Its just on and on. It stops being a fun cute game.

I remember going to her mommy and me class and talking to the other moms and hearing their stories gave me a little bit of comfort knowing that I wasn’t the only one.

Maybe it’s her cry for attention for mommy since my attention is divided with her and her brother and she is still attempting to adjust.

I decided to have a “Summer end” bbq recently. I was craving cheesecake so I decided to try to make some with Olivia. A part of myself said, “No, bad idea. Baking with her always ends up with disasters.” However I figured that she is a little older now and maybe she will be a bit different.

Once again, it was a disaster. She almost fell off her chair, so as I was finishing up the mini-cakes, her brother was screaming for me to pick him up and give him attention and food. I asked her to play with her brother and then she replied, “NOOOOO” and downhill it went.

The kitchen was a chaotic jungle once again. For a good hour, all you hear was crying and screaming.

I needed a mommy moment.

I had attempted to calm her down, didn’t work. I was getting over whelmed with my son crying while I was trying to clean up. As she continued crying and screaming at me, she yelled out and said, ” I want daddy.” It broke my heart.

Yes it is nice she wants daddy, but I felt like I’m playing the bad cop a lot these days being the primary caregiver during most of the day. I felt completely unappreciated.

I held back my tears and I had to put her in her room to calm down while I try to give myself a moment to calm down and clean up while my son cried. As I closed the door to her room, I can hear her screaming and crying and banging on the door.

I felt like a horrible mother. I just needed a moment for breathe and let her calm down.

I said to myself, “All I was trying to do was bake with her. That’s all. Why am I the crappy parent in her eye?”

I went back in her room after we both a had a few minutes of space and I explained why she was in her room. We talked, I gave her a hug and we played dolls for a few minutes.

Crisis averted, so I thought. No time for tears from me.

After her afternoon nap, I thought she would be fine.
Another tantrum again. The house was all noise and chaos and it was such a craptastic day. When my husband came home, I had to go upstairs and just cry.

It was overwhelming.

He gave me a hug, which I needed even though I’m not much of a hugging person. I felt nice that someone cared when I felt like my daughter hates me.

He reassured me and said I’m doing a good job. Days like that, I really wonder what the heck I’m doing. Kids don’t come with instructions so I’m always winging it all the time.

Being a stay-at-home parent is hard. I miss working now and then. Some of my friends and relatives have their parents helping them watch their kids or siblings babysit. I would be a little sad at times. I think maybe I assumed it would have that as an option. Except, I don’t have that as an option.

Day care costs are insane. All my family in Canada are all working full-time and my parents were in a different province. I say to myself, we could go for daycare but maybe break even but then I will miss out on milestones with the kids and I still want that relationship with the kids. I often feel like I’m trapped with wanting my career back but also wanting to be with the kids.

I’d have to factor in the cost of day-care, after school care, and would I be comfortable having someone that isn’t family take care of my kids.

It’s that constant mind battle of a stay-at-home parent.

A relative said to me, staying at home with the kids is a break.

I am still waiting for that break.

Any other parents needing a moment to calm down from a chaotic day? You’ll find me beside my water cooler, standing on some old cheerios.

The Deepsleepers

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My kids sleep through vacuums, heavy rain falls with loud thunder. I remember after feeding them as I put them in their crib for bedtime, I think to myself, “Finally, I can have some sleep.”

Right when I was about to close my eyes, I sneeze. They wake up and I am left trying to put them back to sleep again. Who knew my sneezes are louder than a vacuum and rainstorms.

It’s in the Genes

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I remember one morning we were all sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. I was being silly and doing some goofy dance at the table and as I look over to the left of me, there was my daughter doing the exact same dance and trying to sing the same thing I was. It was like looking at a little mini-version of myself. I couldn’t stop laughing.

When I was pregnant I kept thinking, I wonder what the baby will look like. Will she or he have my eyes, his hair? Who will they be more similar personality wise? It’s interesting seeing their personality unfold as they grow older.

Luckily, with their generation there are phones to record so many videos and pictures that they can instantly compare to their own kids. (If they decide to have kids any someday in the later future.)

It would have been nice to have to have baby videos to look back on from when I was younger. Back then, video cameras were very expensive and tons of work trying to hook it up. First you have to find a blank video tape, then make sure you press the record button, take the lens cap off, the haul the heavy camera over your shoulder.

Whoa…saying all that stuff just made me realize how old I am.

Let’s Catch Up…the family game

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Remember those family gatherings? I haven’t been to one in a while since we moved away.
My one favorite part would be the food at the gatherings. My mom would cook so many dishes, you were always walking out of the party having to undo the top button of your jeans from eating so much.

The least favorite part is having to play the “Let’s catch up” game some of the older relatives which always includes all the same questions over and over again.

Playing catch up with the family can be like those game shows. The questions are always the same and if you don’t have an answer then there is the question of, “WHY?” Then you are left trying to hand them off to a sibling or another relative to focus on.

Clearly all the questions are unavoidable. Too bad there isn’t a form that can be handed out before any gatherings with the disclaimer that if you answer the form, anything on the form cannot be talked about during the gathering.

Then what would be left to talk about? Current happenings of the world? The party starts here kids…ahhah

My…”insert line here”


After being a parent you realize that each stage in your kid’s life is always a new thing to deal with. It is always a continous learning process. My daughter is in the stage of “favourite” people and things that she expresses endearment towards. Right now she attaches, “MY” with a sweet tone of delight to her favourite people and things.

Lately, it has been, “MY…daddy!”
She says it with a smile or when he leaves the room for a second. She looks at me and says, “Where’s MY DADDY?” or “My DADDDDDDDDDY!”

Then there is her favourite Hippo toy named, “Bobo.” To which she says “MY Bobo!” or “My DARLING Bobo”

(Note she said, “Darling”)

Now when she says, “Mommy”, there is no “MY” just mommy.
So far, I haven’t made the cut. BOO.
Hurts more than a papercut. Am I bitter….I wouldn’t human if I didn’t express some sort of bitterness.

(Que the sympathetic tiny violin)
What’s not to love about mommy.
I say to myself… but I take her to playdates, mommy and me classes. Share my food, play with her. She also lived in my stomach for 9 months. Come on…I should get AT LEAST a “MY DARLING” for that. But Noooope.

I just want a simple, “MY” to my mommy name.
(End Sympathetic tiny violin)

With that being said, at least my son still lights up when I enter the room.
1 fan out of 2 isn’t so bad, right?