A Boy in Every Sense of the Word

'Little A' as he's affectionately referred to by one of my close friends, is a BOY in every sense of the word.  From the moment he starts his day, he is on the move.

He climbs everything he can.  Our kids Ikea chairs are now always on their side rather than upright... or you will Aidan like this.

An object holds interest for about 3 seconds, then is quickly discarded.  He always leaves a disaster in his wake.

Not one to catch onto baby sign, he cries with frustration when he runs out of milk, can't get into something he wants to (like the garbage), is tired, angry, or frustrated.  

But today, cleaning the bathroom, the true sign that this boy, is a BOY.  I was cleaning the sink, and turned around when I heard a "thunk" with a distinct "splash" sound.  He had taken his toy diver from the bathtube and thrown him into the toilet.  Quickly grabing Danny the Diver, and putting him back into the tub, and closing the toilet lid, I get back to wiping the counter.  Then more splashing.  Aidan has re-opened the lid and is splashing his hands in the toilet water.  Close the lid again, and turn around (I should have learned by now)... and Aidan is grabbing things out of the garbage.

He is one busy boy, looking for trouble on every turn (ok, he thinks he is looking for fun).

Moms to multiple boys, I highly respect you.

Now, off to see what Aidan has gotten into since I've been writing this. 

... he is on the floor crying because I didn't let him touch the keyboard....

On third babies and Furniture

Nate and I have been talking alot about a third child.  Ok, he's been doing alot of listening and I've been doing alot of talking.  Two weeks after Grace was born, I had a deep desire for a second child.  It took til only recently for me to say that the "idea" of a third child is up there floating around somewhere in the world of possibilities.  But it's hard for me to know if it is because as a Mother, who wouldn't want another child, or if it's because I really want another child.  And it boils down to another 20 weeks of morning sickness, and a very hard labour. I'd do that for another child, but the burning desire for a third just isn't the same as it was for our first two babes.  For Nate, it comes down to he doesn't have the hormones to make him forget either of my previous labours & deliveries.  Despite what the midwives have tried to reassure us with, he doesn't want to lose me, or a baby.  I know he's right, and I've been ever so slowly trying to put the idea of a third aside. 

Then this morning, a local furniture company called to tell us they had Aidan's bed and dresser ready for delivery.  For his first birthday, my parents wanted to buy him a dresser.  They said when we were little they wished they would have had a dresser big enough for all our clothes, and didn't want us to have to deal with the same conundrum (I am currently using one of my dressers from childhood for Grace).  It is rather small.  So, back in January, we ordered not only the dresser, but a matching twin bed. 

Without much thought this morning, after the phonecall, I went into crazy bedroom organizing, moving the dresser from the nursery where I have changed both kids, and moved it into Grace's room.  It is the dresser that matches her bed, but was the right height for a change table.  Within the space of an hour, the nursery went from being a room that is ready to house a small babe, into a room almost ready for our 'enroute' toddler.  I didn't even have time to think about the transition.  And maybe that is for the best.

I don't feel sad, just very aware of this new stage of life we are entering, and the one we are leaving behind.  Done with wee little diapers and done with nursing (Aidan weaned himself two weeks ago).  But there is so much to look forward to.  Especially with each passing day and week, more time to focus on me. 

Baby steps.

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After writing this post, I went about doing some things, then came back and read the first couple comments.  Aidan woke, I went upstairs, and held him in the rocking chair, as he drank his sippy cup.  And I cried.  I wish that terms such as hemangiomas, decelerating heart rates, two vessel cords, placental abruption, fetal echocardiograms, were not part of my past history of babes and birth.  But they are.  And as I see others posting about their third babies, the quiet part of me wishes our story was different.  That there wouldn't be a need for hard conversations about the truth of having another child.  When I met with my midwife a few months ago, she told me it was ok to mourn.  And ok to have to take time after hearing of an easy birth story, to be able to "cope" with the news.  I want to thank Cheryl for giving me the "ok" to open up and grieve a little more.  As I said, baby steps.

The End of the Day

A few weeks ago, Nate's hours at work changed, and my "day" with the kids shifted to start at 1:30 pm.  Our time with Nate home is now over the lunch hour.  One of the things that has changed in our routine, is when I tidy up the house.  It used to be during Aidan's afternoon nap, so that the house would be tidy and dinner ready, for when Nate came home at 5:15.

But now, with the afternoon, and dinner solo with the kids, I usually leave everything until Aidan has gone to bed. 

Today when I logged onto Facebook, I saw a post from an acquaintance.  A day or so ago, she posted a photo of her youngest son (she has three) who is just a little younger than Aidan, sitting in a hallway scattered with items.  She wrote under the photo "Owning It".  Her husband works away from home, and she was showing him a photo of what he was coming home to.  An innocent post turned ino a series of comments, many hurtful, about the scene she shared.  Some of the comments have since been deleted, but the one of contention was from her MIL, along the lines of - my son should divorce you if you can't keep a cleaner home (paraphrasing here).

On behalf of this woman, I too an "owning" how, on many days, my home looks at the end of my day.  The worst is always the kitchen.  Here it is - 6:27 pm.  Aidan has just gone to bed.  I've made dinner for me and two littles, bathed two kids, and played with them on a couch and a pile of pillows.  Dishes are piled high, pizza yet to be put away, and the cupboards are scattered open showing the trail of where Aidan crawled to while I was busy prepping their food. 

It would be nice to think that my home is always in a state of order.  But, it's not.  And that's ok.

Warm Wooly Heart Wishes to You!

For some reason, everytime I read this, it makes me laugh.  I hope you have a great Valentine's today full of love, laughter, knitting (or crafting!) and chocolate :)

Ribbed.... for HIS pleasure!

Oh my girlfriends and I have been giggling about the possible titles I can give this sweater.

It is all ribbed.  All 1X1 rib mostly, with some 4X2 thrown in for good measure.  A whole lotta rib. 

Back in September of 2009, I asked my hubby what he wanted for Christmas.  Surprisingly, a sweater, knit by me.  Sure, no problem (I think I was in denial of the giant task it is to KNIT a man's sweater!).  Christmas passed, then 2010 passed, and we were into January of 2011.  I was DETERMINED to finish this up.  I did on Saturday.  I thought I would hold onto it until Valentine's Day, but couldn't resist and gave it to him this morning.

From the time I cast this on, and bound off, a total of 46 other projects were knit.  Craziness, I know.  But, something had to break up the monotony of ribbing.

I am just so SO proud of this giant ribby one.  I'm in love with the sweater, and the man! 

P.S.  I wasn't brave enough to give this sweater the same title on Ravelry.  You'll find it there as 1X1 Love :)

Fashion?

For the past 4 ish years, I've been out of the fashion loop.  I've either been pregnant, losing weight from pregnancy, or somewhere in between those two.  If not in maternity clothes, then I've been in jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie.  I've been feeling a desire lately to try and reclaim my sense of fashion.

Now please don't misunderstand.  I wore nice maternity clothes (they cost me a small fortune), and I wear nice jeans... but I'm starting to feel a little "Mom'esque", if that can be a word.  I want to upscale my Mom'ness a bit.

So yesterday I hit the mall with both kids, and was disheartened at what I saw.  Large floral print blouses, with ruffles.  Seriously?  I recall trying to reclaim my fashion sense after Grace and felt equally as out of the loop.  I'm not really a floral, ruffly type of gal.

Are you wearing floral & ruffles?  Is it chic and I just need to give it a go?

Any fashion savvy advice appreciated :)