Momfessions: Part 2

It’s that time again. The moment where I drag out my worst moments, my not-so-proud talents, my dirty, dirty secrets. The time where I say all the things I hope and pray other moms/dads/parents/humans are feeling because I can’t be the ONLY one that does/feels/thinks these things. RIGHT?!

It's TRUE.

It’s TRUE.

And today I feel it’s even more important to talk about the nitty gritty, the behind-the-scenes that will send non-parents RUNNING, because there are some incredibly brave, new, raw parents in my life, ones that are probably sinking under a hundred ‘flaws’ that are actually ingenious survival tactics and I want them to know that they are NOT alone, it DOES get better, and one day (I SWEAR/HOPE) we’ll look back and remember this time of war with fondness. AND that it is NOT today.

My house is always a disaster. No, really. Seriously. There are always Cheerios and crackers and other random dried food on my floors. I can sweep once, I can sweep a hundred times, I can not sweep for a week and the result is ALWAYS the same. It’s depressing. And my socks and my children’s socks (if they’re wearing socks) and Ben’s socks and all of my guests’ socks are ALWAYS crusted with something horrible. And I feel bad. But then I sweep and within seconds it looks as if I don’t give a rat’s ass about my floors. And in truth? Right now? I don’t. On the one hand, it’s too hard to care about something that NO ONE ELSE EVER CARES ABOUT. And on the other hand I’m providing my children with important immunity-boosting licking opportunities. The more dirt they eat, the stronger their bodies will be at fighting off the plague, right? Right. Because science.

I feel bad when I go to other people’s houses. Because my house is SUCH A TREAT to be in (i.e. you can find a treat on the floor regardless of the room you’re in…) that when I go to other people’s houses I can not see the flaws. All I see are all the things that they’re doing better than me…like the sweeping, or the dishes being all clean, or the fact that clear counter space exists, or that the bathroom doesn’t look like a frat house bathroom, or the grown-up furniture that looks like it belongs in the room, versus the what-we-had-given-to-us-or-found-on-the-side-of-the-road decorating aesthetic we’re currently obsessed (read: stuck) with. I try to tell myself that I don’t know the whole story. That I don’t know what they’ve sacrificed to get it done. I don’t know what kind of woodland creatures they have employed. I have no idea what’s hiding behind the doors or in the drawers I’m not privy to. But every time…EVERY TIME…I feel like everyone else has a grown-up house and I’m living a dorm life with three kids and that somehow this is a failure.

I hate when my babies are sick. And not because I feel bad for them or I wish I could take it away from them. But because they SUCK at being sick. They don’t want to watch TV all day. They don’t want to lie on the couch and sleep. They just want to whine and cry and be hugged and cuddled, but not that way, this way, no you’re doing it wrong, why do you SUCK, why did you put me DOWN, pick me UP. AND. They like cuddling while they puke. They don’t know how to blow their noses to remove the snot so they stop coughing. They still want to DO something even though they have no patience or capacity for it. I love my babies. But sick versions of them SUCK.

I love hunting boogers. Some people love popping pimples. Others adore digging out blackheads. Some people are vomiting just reading this. BUT. I take great pleasure in stealing my children’s boogers. Especially Isaac’s. He gets so grumpy and his boogers are so satisfying and big and…I kind of love it. I even like going after the ones that Lillian and Sophie have missed. It’s disgusting, but it’s the one pleasure I get from my kids being sick, so I’m going to take it.

My kids don’t do chores. I know I’m supposed to assign chores to my kids, but I just haven’t. I’m too tired and there is too much to do. And teaching my kids to do the things they could be responsible for is exhausting and takes more work than me just doing it. I know it’s a future investment thing, that if I spend the 9384737 minutes and 382473984 kJ of energy, it will pay off big in the future. But, I just don’t want to. I don’t want to do the dishes, but more than that? I don’t want to teach someone how to do the dishes. I have, however, just won the jackpot. Remember Adam Sandler in Big Daddy, where the kid tells him he wants to go to school and he’s so impressed with his parenting strategy because by letting the child choose his own path he ultimately picks the right thing to do? That is happening in my house RIGHT NOW. Sophie and Lillian have magically started clearing their plates after dinner and take turns sweeping and have even cleaned up their playroom spontaneously a bunch of times. It works! Adam Sandler is a GENIUS. Wait…

I hate bedtime. I have a friend (Hi, Heather!) who is basically in charge of all the bedtimes all the time. And I have no idea how her children are still alive and her marriage is intact and her hair is not snow-white. Seriously. Bedtime is not the cozy, cuddly, dreamy place that TV/movies/ads/bookstores sell it as. It is not filled with sweet children who are cutely snuggled in their pyjamas, waiting patiently and quietly while their parents read them stories filled with wonder. It is a cluster-f#*@ of nonsense, where everyone is tired (me) and hyped up (them) and no one is doing what they’re supposed to (Lillian) and there are a thousand questions and demands (Sophie) and people chucking their favourite blankets and pillows out of their bed (Isaac) and someone is sobbing in the corner (me). It’s a lot of asking them to sit still so we can read the damn story and praying that it will be over soon because if I don’t have fifteen seconds of time to myself before I have to go to bed to wake up to DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN, I might just kill someone. I hate it. Almost as much as doing dishes. At least they don’t bounce around and change their minds over what story they want read while screaming about putting on their pyjamas. So, actually, I hate it MORE than dishes. (It’s serious, yo’).

Welcome to the underground.

Welcome to the underground.

Okay. I’ve confessed my sins, my dirty secrets, and the things I probably shouldn’t have said out loud. Now it’s your turn: what are YOUR confessions? Momfessions? Dadfessions? Humanfessions? SPILL. Then I won’t feel so naked.

~ Julia

You can go home again…

Well, I am, as you know back at home, living with the Mom again.

I don’t really have any tips to living with the parents, except to just remember that this is all just temporary.

I was going to do a funny post with tips about living with the parents again, but I don’t have any funny things to say about living with the parents again, because quite frankly, it’s not funny, and it kind of sucks.

But I do just want to make this post because it sucks, and I wanted to say it out loud.

I wish we didn’t fall down. I wish we could have stayed in Peterborough. And I really wish that we wouldn’t have had to move back to Mom and Mike’s.

It sucks that we have had to shove all our stuff from an apartment into random nooks and crannies. It also kind of sucks that our bedroom is literally just a bed.

I feel like we are in the way, but I know our Momma loves us and supports us, and we are so lucky she is here for us.

So this post is to just say, it sucks, but we have the best mom in the world, and the coolest stepdad.

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Thank you, guys! You both are awesome

~ Andreah

Thankful changes

This year has been insane.

It has been full of changes and new beginnings, scary and exciting.

It has also been a year of finding the things to be thankful in times of darkness, and in times of turmoil.

I am thankful for so much, and sad about so much that it leaves me boggled, but this post going to be about the former.

Love and friendships
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I have found so many new people to love.

We found a new family at the shop, I have grown closer to Joe’s aunts and Grandpa, and made new friends. I have solidified old friendships, and all existing relationships are stronger than ever. I am so thankful for every one, and trust me the list is long. I have had so much support and love from so many different people that it’s hard to actually express how thankful I truly am for them and what have done for us.

Sisters

And I get to have my sisters there at my back! So lucky!

And I get to have my sisters there at my back! So lucky!

We haven’t always been close, but because of the distance, and missing them, I have been able to grow up a lot, and to learn who they are and what it really means to have sisters. I have, in the past, kept them at arms length, and I am so thankful and so blessed that they never once gave up on me, and now our relationships are so strong and so wonderful. They are always at my back, always are so supportive, and are always there for me…whether I need them or not. I love you all.

Parents
I have so many parents. SO many I can’t list them all. They all guide me and are there for me, and love me and Joe. We have so many parents spanning from back home, to the one we created 2 and 1/2 hours away that wherever we go, they got our back.

Change
I usually am not the biggest fan of changes, in fact it kinda freaks me out when there is a landslide of new changes in the mix. Moving back home is hard, but it’s a chance for a new adventure, new paths, and new growth. Although I am worried that things may not turn out well, I know that we will be able to make it work, whatever comes our way.

Joe

Joe lets me be weird, and he is just as weird as me!

Joe lets me be weird, and he is just as weird as me!

He is my rock, my love, my best friend, and my light. He makes happy when I am sad, always is there for me, and always loves me, even when I am being ridiculous. He is my partner, and my confidante. He is my smile. I never thought I would find someone, and for them to be just what I need in any given moment and situation? I can say that I am truly blessed.

Elena

Elena's role!

Elena’s role!

She is my kindred spirit and my other-other half. She is best friends with Joe, is always there for me, my road trip buddy, and my awesome more-than-friend friend. I can’t actually explain how much Elena means to me…and Joe. She is always a support, a shoulder to lean on, and a hand to hold – a true soul mate of mine. I couldn’t have done everything that happened in this past year without her.

I am eternally thankful for everything on this list, and more.

~ Andreah

Guest Post – Never ever

Julia’s sister-in-law and the Sisterhood’s honourary fifth sister, Kim, is here for her second guest post! Her first, about a steamy Leo DiCaprio dream, can be found here.  

Something wonderful happens when you become a parent. Your world changes for the better and your heart becomes bigger and filled with love beyond any capacity that you even knew was humanly impossible. You would do anything, be anything, for your small bundle of joy and often times you do.

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You become that parent that sings goofy songs to distract your child from their most recent bruise; you do ridiculous dances to entertain them while their meal is cooking and partly because you’re bored and full of caffeine. You start judging other parents and the choices they make because they are different from yours and you become a hypocrite of your own words only a few months into parenthood, because you had no idea what you were talking about then.

Yes, becoming parent changes things. It changes you. Sometimes it’s messy and silly and hard and emotional. So to help you remember that it’s worth it and that even if today is rough, tomorrow will be a new day, I’ve made a drinking game just for parents! Because hey – who couldn’t use a little break to relax after you’ve spent all day wiping the same nose, butt and face!?

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Introducing…

Never Ever: The Parenting Edition

Rules: Gather your favourite friends with shorties and have a sip/shot/gulp for every sentence that is true. Feel free to add your own statements too!

Never ever have I washed toys that were once in the toilet.

Never ever have I served my kid hot dogs or macaroni and cheese for three or more meals within the same week.

Never ever have I retrieved an object from my child’s orifice that wasn’t their mouth.

Never ever have I expanded the 10-second rule beyond one minute.

Never ever have I let my kid wear the same outfit more than three days in a row.

Never ever have I told my kid to be careful when climbing bookshelves, dressers or counters.

Never ever have I skipped every other page during stories.

Never ever have I broken into my kid’s candy stash from Easter/Halloween/Christmas.

Never ever have I blamed my kid for my own lateness.

Never ever have I questioned if a substance was poop or chocolate/pee or water.

Never ever have I let my kid eat snacks found in their car seat, couch cushions or underneath the furniture.

Never ever have I seen my kid hanging from a chandelier and thought to myself, “I’ve seen them do worse.”

Never ever have I thought, “Unless there’s blood, I’m not breaking up their fight.”

Never ever have I seen my kid doing something dangerous and thought about how it would make for an awesome extreme sport.

Never ever have I had to fish poop out of the bath, shower or sink.

Never ever have I used the same threats on my kids that my parents did with me.

Never ever have I taken my kid out in a Halloween costume and it wasn’t even October.

Never ever have I saved getting out dessert for when my kids are in bed.

Never ever have I pretended I didn’t know my kid when they had a temper tantrum in public.

~~~

Please drink responsibly and think about saving this game for a night when the sitter can sleep over! 😉

~ Kim

If you’d like to write a guest post and join in the Weather Vane Sisterhood fun, email us at weathervanesisterhood at gmail dot com. We’d love to have you!