Mama-luia

There has been oodles and oodles of time spent navel-gazing writing and thinking about 'self-care' in the mommy blogosphere. When I click the latest link, I expect to discover a new and crucial revelation about the need to attend to one's own needs, but I find myself usually left wanting. "Self-care isn't selfish!" we are reminded endlessly. "Put on your own oxygen mask first!" To all of this I nod appreciatively, only to read on for a few sentences to uncover the benefits of getting a pedicure. Almost without fail, pedicures, beauty regimes and hot coffee drank in silence are given as examples of good self-care. I am here to say, enough already. It's time to change the conversation on "self-care." We live in a culture that celebrates the need to "treat yo'self." Writers online can't help but preface a silly statement with "this may seem like a first-world problem  but " and then proceed to show ho...

At 13 or 14 weeks pregnant, I was out grocery shopping with my three born children when a woman stopped me to comment on my kids. She had nice things to say, to be sure, but the tenor of the conversation changed drastically when Isaiah blurted out excitedly "and guess what?! Mommy has a new baby in her tummy!" Immediately her face withered into an expression of disgust. "You're not having another one, are you?" I tried my best to be kind in the face of her inappropriate comment. After all, I was (am!) excited to be having another child. Plus, my kids were right there listening . "Yes we are, actually!" All smiles and warmth from me. "How far along are you?" she asked. When I told her, she said "you're not even in your second trimester and you're already showing?! What's the matter with you ?!" At this point, I was so hurt, so ashamed that I had to fight back tears. I slowly responded "Well, that's...

A more PG foray into blogging. Every Friday I take Noah to a little preschool program in our community. He loves it, I mean loves it, and I enjoy being able to take him, while my generous mother stays home with Isaiah. It's something we both look forward to. Recently a public health nurse showed up on the scene. During the first hour, the moms sit out and drink coffee and gab. Occasionally a guest speaker comes and gives us some tips on parenting. I always would prefer my silence and/or gab-time, but I humor them by listening; I'm polite like that. Anyway the public health nurse came to tell us how to pack healthy lunches for our kids. I was mildly interested, looked at the Canada's Food Guide she passed around, and nodded vehemently as part of the pack, "hand-washing makes all the difference!" Then the nurse got off on a tangent about sex-ed. She gives the lectures at the local schools, and was regaling us with a 'hysterical' story of a child p...

Mom-guilt. This expression has become a cliche for mothers nowadays. We say it all the time, we hear it all the time, and most of all, we think  it all the time. It creeps us on us when we start comparing ourselves to other women, and what we think  we should be doing. "I'm having such mom-guilt for putting the tv on so I can doze for half an hour in the afternoons!" "I have mom-guilt for making Kraft Dinner when their father's out of town." and so on and so forth. Sometimes we use this expression jokingly in our modern parlance. I sarcastically said to my sister on the phone how "oh yeah I have reeeeal 'mom-guilt for not doing a craft every day with Noah." I was using a joking tone of voice, but I think I was revealing an insecurity. I was seeking affirmation from her that it's okay that I don't devout every waking minute to my kids' enrichment. November 2011. Making pizza dough  Oh how I miss those baby face...

On Monday I needed to do some errands -- the weekly groceries, a trip to the bank, and I was in need of a gift for my mother-in-law who's birthday was coming up. She is an avid bibliophile, and I thought she might like One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, something I haven't read (yet!) but based on my exposure to Ann Voskamp's writing, it really seemed up my mother-in-law's alley. Rather than wasting the gas by going into the city another day during the week, I decided to bundle the kids up and do all the errands in one packed morning. We had a grand ol' time. We always do, really, when we head out (especially when we are lucky enough to have  this song  play on the radio while we cruise around). When we arrived at Chapters, I quickly found the Voskamp book, found a nice day-planner for myself at 75% off (yipee!) and then told the boys we could play around in the kids' section for a while. They have a Thomas train table set up there, as well as other vario...

Ever wanted to test your patience, sanity and ability to love your husband and children despite all sorts of weird circumstances? No? Clever you. I, however, appear to enjoy walking on the wild side. My current plan, which you are welcome to modify to your own life as needed, is as follows: 1) Lose your water pressure. In fact, better yet, have your well run dry, which appears to be our dilemma. (This, however, makes no sense given how it has rained pretty consistently all spring and summer.) But in any case, this means a) no dishwasher b) not being able to do laundry until it's fixed (. . . !) 2) Have a newborn. Y'know, to feel sleep deprived and all. 3) Take said newborn AND a two-year old on a road trip from Nova Scotia to Ontario. What would normally be about 16 hours of driving suddenly becomes much, much more. 4) When you arrive at your destination, be sure to stay for a whole week at a camp without electricity or running water. Call i...

About two weeks ago, I was with Patrick as we were driving through downtown Halifax. We went past a rather posh store that often has really interesting window displays. I curiously looked, only to be disgusted with what I saw: Several undressed mannequins with brightly-coloured cutouts of hands taped to each breast, and the following words, written in large print -- "Have YOU felt your boobs lately?" Far less noticeable in the display were a few pink ribbons, signifying breast cancer awareness. Given that someone I love is currently battling breast cancer, I was so angered at the insensitivity of this display. While I think encouraging women to do breast self-exams is important, I was so disgusted with how they did it; it made something as devastating as breast cancer somehow sexy ?! Also, if you're a Facebook user, perhaps you remember about four or five months ago when women curiously had a single word, a colour, as their Facebook status. The colour, it turns o...

I have been mentally flagellating myself for say, about 5 and half months, that I am the biggest slob known to mankind, and ergo, a terrible wife. I wasn't a very clean person growing up! Far from it, actually. I was a mess as a single adult, and had very little time into my marriage before I became pregnant and puking, so I didn't improve much, needless to say. Why would I have thought I would be better at it all AFTER the baby was born... when there was MORE laundry to do? And MORE stuff accumulated? And LESS time to manage these things?! Then I read my sister's blog post . I laughed. I smiled. I delighted in the fact that she is a very good mother, and is setting her priorities straight: kids first, tidying later. I also read another blog post that was absolutely EXCELLENT on cutting women some slack about their housework, especially those with young children. The author, and one of her commentators, also showed very cleverly why this post isn't doing women any serv...

There are some questions a pregnant woman gets used to being asked repeatedly . Perhaps I speak in too declaratory a fashion, this being my first pregnancy, and having asked no other pregnant woman if she's experienced a similar phenomenon. Nonetheless, I have grown accustomed to being asked over and over the following (list not exhaustive!) : "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" "Have you picked out names yet?" "When is your due date?" (I am particularly fond of being asked this question, because I can then smile sweetly and say, "In the middle of my husband's finals." I love shock value.) "How are you FEELING?" Often accompanied by the word "sweetheart", "darling" or some other pet name, and frequently said with a vague wince on the face of the person doing the asking. That facial expression always makes me feel as though I am supposed to say "terrible, exhausted, overwhelmed, petrified, const...