The Ups and Downs

This month has been, by far, one of the craziest on record for me. At least one of the craziest since having Matt - where I have tried to be relatively stable, sane and consistent.
But, we knew that this month would bring sheer insanity to our lives, and it truly has.
A rundown of these past 4 weeks are:
Week 1) Family trip to Vermont
Week 2) Laural away for work
Week 3) Daycare closed, living with Grandma and Grandpa in Oakville while simoultaneously taping a television show in Toronto (current week)
Week 4) Daycare still closed, living at Grandma and Grandpa's house while they are on vacation and Matt is being taken care of by a babysitter, more show taping, etc.
Add to this that we are trying to live on a cash budget (don't get me started) and we are trying to not fight, and make it to work on time every day.
It's a little crazy.
But, that's not what this is about.
This is about my monkey. Because he is in the middle of the upheaval. And, he is doing great. Last night Mike said to me that he wishes he could be as strong as our two-year old. And, he's right.
While we are stressing about everything, Matthew just takes things a day at a time. His time with Grandpa has been an adventure. Together they have built a set of steps in the backyard (Matt truly helped by handing my dad nails and stuff), going to playgrounds, having ice cream, etc. He's stayed with a friend of the family, with my sister and with my parents.
And throughout it all he's been happy and smiling and excited to tell us about his day. And, in the last few weeks he has started talking a lot more. Like, he can express himself in full sentences, and he jokes about stuff. It's hilarious.
And then there was last night. He and I went to bed at the same time - 9:30. Mike had been lying down with him and then I got myself ready and came to join them. We all laid there quietly, listening to Matt's tape. And, then Matt reached over, gave me a big hug and patted me on the back. It was a moment to cherish.
I love that child.

The Great Daycare Debate

Recently I was talking with someone about daycare.
To me it's a bit of a ridiculous issue. The bottom line is that if you work your child needs to be taken care of. This is true until roughly the age of maybe 11 or 12. (maybe older). And, so the bottom line is that you have to have someone watch your child.
From what I understand there are a few options:
1) Your child goes to a daycare centre (public or private)
2) Your child goes to a home daycare
3) You have a nanny
4) Your child is with a family member
In some cases the decision is clear cut. Most of the people I know have a very strong opinion one way or another, or they are forced into a decision based on finances.
For Mike and I the choice was a daycare centre. We researched all of the options, went to see the various options and then made a choice. For us the choice was not so much of a financial one as it was a gut instinct.
I guess for me it boiled down to the fact that I felt, and still feel, that Matthew is a really high maintenance child. He needs constant entertainment and activity. After a day alone with him I am honestly tired. To me it was clear that he needed to be in a social setting and I truthfully wondered if one person could handle his energy day in and day out.
So I chose daycare. First he went to a privately run one (LOVED it - I still regularly e-mail them) and then when our situation changed he went to a municipal run daycare - love it too.
But, the other day I was speaking to someone who asked me about my choice.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't offended, but I was annoyed. The gist of the conversation was that the daycare centres are for those of us who don't make enough of an income to hire a good nanny. Really.
I have to say I was taken aback by that.
I know lots of kids who had nannies. I grew up in private school and trust me, I had friends whose nannies picked them up every day, took us places, and all sorts of stuff. Some were nice, some were mean. Some were just okay. But, I never thought of it as a priviledge of the rich. It was just a lifestyle.
But, to even insinuate that I made a choice for my child based on finances? Not cool.
I mean, really.
I would pretty much do whatever I need to in order for Matty to be a happy well adjusted child. If it meant going into debt (well, further who am I kidding), or anything I'd do it. But, I'm happy with my choice. And, I think it is right. Financial issues or not.
Seriously, make decisions, choose what is best for your family. But, don't judge it's stupid. If you're happy with your nanny be glad that my kid goes to daycare because it means I won't steal your nanny!!!!

Where's the Line??

The other day Mike and I were sitting in a restaurant, on our own, enjoying a dinner alone. We don't do this often, and when we get the chance we like to enjoy it, and prefer not to be sitting around kids.
But, this particular evening we were. One family with kids was fine - nice, well behaved, etc. The other was not so nice.
It was a large group of adults (6) and one little boy, about Matty's age.
I don't know what this group was thinking. First of all, it was late, like 8:30 and he was tired. Like, the kid was cranky, but the parents/friends just kept socializing. Okay - I get that. But, then they started doing to most annoying thing - they kept doing some weird surprise thing that made him scream.
It wasn't a cute laugh he was emitting. It was a stupid annoying shrieking scream that made them all laugh and then he would laugh and do it again.
Here's the thing.
My son is not a perfect angel, and sadly when he walks into a restaurant he doesn't suddenly become one. But, we always encourage good behaviour. If he starts having a meltdown/temper tantrum we do something about it - whether it's try to give him crayons, take him away from the table or sing a song.
But we would never, ever encourage him to do something so annoying and stupid that annoys an entire restaurant.
Don't get me wrong. I have a ton of sympathy for parents who are trying. I am not the person who stares other patrons down or gives advice (I have shared toys, but in a friendly way). But for parents like that I have to say something.
I mean, grow up. What are you thinking? Not only is your kid REALLY annoying - you are giving other parents a bad name. And you are making your kid look like a total brat.
In the end my stares did nothing. Mike gave 0ne menacing glare and the mom shut the kid up.
Really!

Home Sweet Home

I'm home ... at last.
It's been a long week. It was fun, I saw a lot of incredible things, I spent a lot of time with people I wouldn't normally have spent time with. And, I went to places that I know I would never have and probably never will again.
It was wonderful (and tiring) and I am so glad to be home.
The coolest moment ever was when I arrived back at the airport, trudging all of my luggage, and there were the boys. Mike dressed up for the occassion - not in a suit or anything, but in the shirt he knows I love, his nice shoes and khakis and did his hair. Matty had on his "mom rocks" shirt. And, I went over and of course I cried. And, then Matt cried. And, maybe even Mike had a tear. It was pretty sweet.
It was a moment I will cherish.
And, it's so good to be back.
Tomorrow though we leave again. We are going to stay at my parents' place since Matthew's daycare will be closed for two weeks. (I HATE that they close in the summer - next year we will plan vacation around that). Next week my family is taking care of him. The week after we have hired a babysitter. She's 17, Matthew and my nieces love her. And, ironically, I used to babysit her. I know it's trusting to leave a two year old with a teenage for a week but I know her entire family, I trust her completely and her mom is amazing and will be around. So, if there are any issues they will be there.
And then on top of all of this is the added fact that we got accepted to be on a reality tv show (I know - crazy) and so we are shooting for that A LOT. We're a little busy.

Almost Home Time

Tomorrow I go home.
I can't wait.
This trip has been pretty incredible on several levels. I have loved some parts and other parts were more tiring. But, it's been great.
And, I have realized a few things.
I've realized that I can be away from Matthew. It sucks and I miss him, but it's okay and we are surviving.
I've realized that I miss my husband. A lot. I just do. The Dixie Chicks (sad I know) have this line in a song that talks about sharing silences. I miss the quiet where we can be quiet together without words and be comfortable. Weird. Cause I like to talk.
I am above all looking forward to coming home and being met at the airport by my boys. I really am.
Am I homesick. Sort of kind of. It's more like I'm just ready to be home - soon ...
But for now I'm relishing the moment and not complaining.

Missing Home

Yesterday I embarked on my frist trip away from my baby.
It's been two years since I've spent more than a night away from my son and it is hard.
I'm away in Calgary on a work trip.
There are some good things. The first thing is that the flight was good, the hotel last night was great and so far the trip has run smoothly. I know that I will see a lot and learn a lot and generally it will be a good experience. I know all of this. And I am embracing it.
But, I also miss home.
I miss both of my boys. I miss their cuddles and their hugs. I missed picking Matt up at daycare today and getting the cry of "mommy mommy mommy" I always get.
Last night I felt weird when I woke up in the middle of the night and Mike wasn't there. It was weird. And, it was kind of empty.
But, I think it's also good. It's nice to miss them. It's nice to know I am missed. it was nice to get a card that Mike wrote but Matt picked (with Dora on it).And I think that you don't realize how much you love people till you miss them.
And, Friday will come soon.
Until then I will embrace the moment and the opportunity.

A Break ...

This week we took a break from everything: from work, from home, from the city, from blogging, from e-mail (including my blackberry!) in order to re-group and have a vacation.
Reading my last post I realized I was exhausted and needed to just seperate from all the crap that comes from a dizzying life. And, it was the perfect time to shut all of that off and go away.
So away we went, to the peaceful state of Vermont.
It's not the first time we have been there. My parents have been taking my sister and I since I was about 6. We go to the same places and do the same things, but being in the fresh mountain air and just doing things like going for walks, drives, etc is actually pretty refreshing.
This year we went with my parents, my sister, her husband and her 2 daughters. So, it was a full house with Mike, Matthew and I.
Matty and his cousins played. Kyla is 4 and Paige is almost 1. (they are all spaced out by 18 months). So, it was an interesting mix. One second Matt and Kyla were playing the next they were screaming. And, Paige sort of just watched it all and joined in when she could.
There were definite highs and lows. Matthew was insane. He's 2. what could we expect? It's a little bit difficult to take a toddler out of the routine he has and put him into a new one and now have any major meltdowns. So, we had a few. But, in the end he seemed pretty okay with it all and loved being with Grandma and Grandpa so much. Every morning he would get out of bed and run yelling "Gawamma - Gawampa" and find them and hop in their bed and cuddle (we had a chalet so there was lots of space) and then usually Kyla and/or Paige joined in.
For me, it was a nice chance to get a break. And, to spend some time with my boys. Mike and I had our 5th anniversary last week. And, I can't say it's been the easiest of times in our marriage. (that's as much as I will blog about).We've struggled. So, we alternated between being close and being distant and even some screaming. Not sure if that's good or bad, but I do come from the school of thought that unless you express the good and the bad there will be no future. So we rode it out and we needed a bit of that.
And, I got a lot of Matty time.
This is the first week off that I have had since I started work that was actual vacation. I took time off at Christmas, but it was for doing Christmas stuff. And, I took a week off to move but we were integrating Matt into a new daycare (which we promplty took him out of - other story) but we hdan't just taken a week to chill. So, thankfully this was that week. And, it's perfect timing because next week I will be away for a week - on my own - for the first time away from Matt. So, I kind of cherished this time.
I also realized that any vision I had of being a stay at home mom was crazy because I COULD NOT HACK IT!!! I was so ready for the daycare gods to descend once again and take care of and entertian my constantly active child.
Yikes.
So, fun filled!
Pictures to come.

My Unabashed Life as a Drama Queen

I've been wanting to write a post about this for awhile, but it didn't all come together in my head until last night.
My entire life I have had the title drma queen. I don't know who first said it, quite possibly my mother when I was a toddler. But the name, or some version of it, has stuck with me. Last night I was out with some colleagues, and after a particularly dramatic week in the world of office gossip, I got given this name ... again.
It was well deserved. I admit.
But that's not exactly what this post is about.
This post is more about me, and how I realized this week that I live in the drama of life. I do. I relish it - and I push for it. And, then I go out and live in all the highs and lows that this drama brings. I wish I could figure out why.
On the one hand I would love it if I could be like so many people who are content - who go to work every day and take their coffee breaks at 10 am and their lunch at noon and go home at five. I envy that desire for the constant and the serene. But I don't have that desire.
And, I think I'm struggling with that right now.
I mean, how can you be a good mom and a good wife and also thrive on the drama of life?
I've often thought about the post-partum, pre-blogging days when I was going through post-partum depression - not my favourite topic. I have been really trying to figure out where that came from and why. If you do research, or talk to your doctor (which of course I did) you know there are many sources. It's chemical but it's also situational. For me it was a combo.
But, I wonder if a huge part of it is all about this thing about me - that I live between the highs and the lows.
Before I had Matt, I was so excited. And, then you have this baby and it really sucks. I'm sorry, but it does. And, something that I am learning about my personality is that if I build something up and get really excited about it, I create almost a euphoric high for myself. And then, if the situation doesn't pan out it is a disastrous low. Hence the title drama queen. But, also hence the ppd. I think I completely fell apart because I was expecting a high - and I think I truly thought in my deepest of thoughts, that I would be one of those aforementioned serenity seeking people who cherished the role of motherhood, the joys of the everyday, quiet walks with my baby in his stroller, etc etc. And, when that didn't happen ...
WOW!
I fell to pieces.
And, I am still gathering those pieces two years later. So, as for my life as a drama queen ...
Well, I don't know.
Do I continue to live in the highs and the lows? I think so. Because I don't think that my personality will allow me to do anything but.
But, really, sometimes that really sucks.

A Reflection on Someone Else's Post

Today I read a post about the battle between staying at home and working and the conflict that arises. I'm putting a link here because I honestly could never say all that Her Bad Mother says in such an eloquent and educated way. http://badladies.blogspot.com/
Read it. It's amazing.
It made me want to say a lot.
It made me re-visit my decision to go back to work, the motivation behind it, and really how I am feeling now.
I have been at my current job for a year. This week I had my "anniversary". To me it's a big deal. Not so much the one-year thing, but just that I survived. I didn't think I had it in me. I didn't think I had one week in me.
Last July I sat on the GO train crying, waving goodbye to my baby and my husband, praying that I would make it through the first scary day at work without bursting into tears.
My friend Stef rode her bike down and got me through lunch (her words "you can cry or laugh - I'll do either with you. Which would you prefer" were the best).
And here I am a year later.
I've survived. And I'm happy. And so is Mike and so is Matty.
Matthew is no longer a baby. He is a toddler. He runs and plays and sings and talks and goes full time to daycare and he loves it.
But, this working thing is also really stressful. It it sucks to get up at 5:22 each morning to be out the door by 7. It sucks to sometimes have to deal with the crap that work can throw at you, to decide whether or not to partake in office gossip (and trust me, there is some good office gossip!!!). But, for me the decision was a good one.
Why?
Because I didn't feel fulfilled when I stayed at home. I was me, but a different version of me. I was the me who didn't feel like she fit in with the other moms, who was constantlly comparing herself with the others and who was floundering. The days were so long and I wasn't treasuring motherhood. I was counting the minutes till nap time and then counting the minutes till Mike was done working. My eye was always on the clock and I just wasn't dealing with it. And, believe me, Matt didn't have a happy mom. He had an aggravated, annoyed and tired mom, who was annoyed a lot.
On a visit to my doctor (I love her) she asked me about my work plans. I basically told her all of the stuff I was dealing with and she told me exactly what I needed to hear. It's okay to do what I want, that I will still be a good mom if I work and that everyone is happier when the mom is happier.
And I listened because she really is smart. And she is cool. And, if she weren't my doctor I would probably want to have a couple of drinks with her - that cool.
Oh - and there was also the financial issue that we were going broke!!
So I went back to work.
It was hard, but it was also good. I had my name restored. I was Laural Adams, not Mom or Mommy all day every day. When I said something it meant something (well, kind of ) and people actually let me fit in.
In the past year I've made friends and gotten to know some great people. I've done some bizarre activities (like riding a 20 person bike around Toronto, building stuff out of food, focus groups ...). I have laughed till I cried and I've learned to stand up for myself on issues. I've been acknowledged for hard work, and I've been rewarded for doing a good job.
I know - it's not always peachy. Work is still work. But, at the end of the day I think it's been the right thing for me to do.
My favourite part of the day is when I pick Matt up at daycare and he comes running over and gives me a huge hug. In his own way he gets it. Kids know when you are happy and when you aren't. And, I think he knows I'm pretty happy.
So, yep, Bad Mother is right. It's not about whether it's better to be a stay at home mom or a working mom. It's not really an issue of being a feminist. It's about doing what is right for you and accepting that what your choice is is what it is. And, if someone doesn't get it, or if someone thinks you are wrong well then they can deal with it.
My guess - they are still trying to figure out what they really want in life.

We have Found Nemo!

Throughout the last two years of Matthew's life, little has held his interest in the way of television.
He has his favourite shows, and Treehouse is a constant in our life, I will admit. But, there's never been a show that he just sits and watches.
We tried Baby Einstein. This started around the crawling days, when we were attempting to sell our condo and I would madly clean while Matt sat in the exersaucer (jumped in the exersaucer), ate his baby mum mums and bounced around to the music.
Never in a million years would I have left him alone with Baby Einstein sans mum mums and exersaucer because he was not that enthralled.
As he got older he developed a bit of a crush on Dora. He still loves Dora. But, again, this is not a sitting show. He likes to catch the stars, dance with her and tell Swiper not to swipe, but this is not a show he'll sit still for.
Same with Bob the Builder and Thomas. Loves them. Knows the names of all the characters, but they are mere background noise - something to talk about and play about.
But this weekend we discovered Nemo.
I'm not sure if this is an age thing (now that he has reached 2.25 years) or whether it's just the Disney geniuses, but Matty Matt is completely enthralled by Nemo.
We watch it every day. Three days in a row Nemo has come on.
We have laughed, we have cried, we have cuddled.
Never before have I seen my child so enthralled by a character on television. When the sharks try to eat Marlin and Dory Matt screams "uh oh - Nemo" (he doesn't understand that Nemo and his dad are 2 different fish). When they show Darla holding a dead goldfish he shrieks in horror.
But, he loves it.
The second time we played it - we turned it off before bedtime. (He doesn't sit for the full length of the movie). And, then once we thought he was asleep I turned it back on to watch the ending. Matt came running out of his room screaming "I hear Nemo".
He was right. He did.
How could I deprive my child? I let him sit up till 9:00 watching the end of the movie. It was good. I think we both cried. And there was lots of cuddling. It was a long weekend. Who cares.
And so I think we have a new friend.
His name is Nemo.

I did it!!!

I started trying to lose weight the Monday after Mother's Day.
I decided to set both long and short term goals. My short term goal - to lose 20 pounds before our trip to Vermont in July. I had a couple of reasons for this. The first was because I really wanted something achievable. The second ws because last time we went to Vermont I was so unhappy with my weight. I hated how I looked and I hate all the picture with me in them. I felt so out of control food wise. I wanted this year to be different.
And I did it!
I weighed myself today I have actually lost 21.5 pounds.
I did something else pretty cool today. I set my goal weight. This is something I've been avoiding, but I realized that if I put my mind to it I can hit that weight I have in my head. I have done it before, so screw my fears that I can't because I've had a baby. I've put my mind to it and I am doing it!!
As for another 20 pound goal ...
I'm not sure.
We're looking ahead to an extremely busy month of travelling, staying in Oakville for a bit and having alternate babysitters while our daycare is closed (a whole other post all of its own). I think my main goal - and my doctor would LOVE this one - is to stick with it and to not let stress ruin what I am doing. Because according to her the reason that I do overeat is, all thyroid issues aside, because I eat when I am stressed.
So, here we go again.
So, cheers to me and feeling better about myself :)

That's Princess Laural

Today was my niece Kyla's 4th birthday.
She is our Canada Day Baby!
And I had a starring role at her birthday Party as Princess Laural. It was so much fun.
Kyla hosted a princess party at the Jack Astors by her house. And, since I love her, I love all things girly and I don't have a daughter, I agreed to dress up like a princess and join them for the party.
It was pretty cute. All of the little girls came dressed as princesses. Then they all got into wagons and were pulled up to the restaurant where they were greeted by Princess Laural.
Since Kyla didn't know I was coming, she was pretty excited when I was there all dressed up. At first the other little girls didn't quite know what to make of me. But, they came around.
My favourite, I must admit, was this one little girl Esther who totally believed that I was a Princess. And, she actually kept calling me Princess Laural. Too cute.
I realized today that so many memories are tied to July 1st.
Four years ago I sat in the hospital lobby just waiting for her to be born. We were the first visitors (probably becuase I wouldn't leave till they let me in) and I held her before she'd ever been weighed.
Three years ago we were celebrating her first birthday and unbenownst to me, I was pregnant. (No wonder I was so emotional)
Two years ago she was 2 and just beginning to talk. I was in the throes of post partum depression and really wishing and hoping that this baby who still seemed so foreign to me would be as sweet and wonderful as my two year old niece.
Last year Kyla's birthday party was the day before I went back to work. I sat down with one of Becky's closest friends and tried not to cry as I told her that I was terrified about starting a new job. I just tried to get through the party without crying. I can't remember if I was successful.
This year is the princess year. Memories yet to be made. What will I remember about today? I will remember Kyla giving me a big hug at the restaurant and saying thank for making her birthday special - without any prompting from her mom. I will remember watching my son play with his cousin (after the party) thinking about how he is turning into a wonderful kid and knowing that I can be grateful that I got that wish I made on Kyla's second birthday.
And, I'm pretty excited that the fears I had last year about going to work and putting Matt in daycare were just fears. Because as far as I am concerned all of the work stuff is going just fine. And daycare is good (despite the biting)
So, happy birthday Kyla!

Thursday Thirteen - My favourite Matty Words

1. I’m two – especially funny when he uses this as an excuse for bad behaviour
2. Michael – in place of the word Daddy. He loves to do this when he is trying to prove a point. As in “No – Michael – No stroller”
3. Momo – this is what he has nicknamed our cat. Her real name is Mojo, which he can say, but much prefers his version
4. Skinamarinkidinkidink I WUV you- This one is adorable – he doesn’t quite get the concept of just a simple ‘I love you’ but loves the long version.
5. Matthew do it – though not so cute when Mommy is in a rush to get to work on time and he is referring to putting on socks
6. Go Home Depot – apparently his favourite store. I don’t know why. I think it’s Mike’s influence.
7. Pretty Paige – another nickname – this one for my niece Paige. When she was born he saw her once and then started calling her Pretty Paige. I know – how cute. She is pretty.
8. Won-wa-wand – I think Wonderland is a tough word for toddlers. When we were en route to Wonderland it was hilarious to hear him and his older cousin Kyla discussing the correct pronunciation of the word. Kyla, who is almost 4 said “No Matty – no WaWaLand – Wonwawand” so then Matt would rehearse it until he had it up to her standard. I wish I had a video camera for that.
9. Camoose – Thomas has a camoose” – this means caboose. A booster seat is a mooster seat, you get the picture.
10. Fix the Wheel – Matt is obsessed with cars, trucks, buses, etc. and he has a Richard Scarry Book where there is a page with someone fixing a wheel. He now insists on fixing every wheel he sees.
11. Parking garage
12. Elevator (elligator) and Escalator (Eccalator)
13. See you later, alligator - Matt’s personal favourite

How Many???

Today I got a phone call from my daycare.
I always have a moment of stress when I see the number flash up. Thankfully it was no big deal. Matt's teacher was calling to let me know that they need more diapers.
How many diapers does a child go through in a day?
By our count Matt goes through an average of 6 diapers per day at daycare. I know - a lot. He also sits on the potty there. This is on average about a bag of diapers per week.
At home he has at least one diaper in the morning and one diaper in the evening and then one diaper overnight (assuming that he does not need a change or decide to take his diaper off to show us his new diaper removal skill).
So, that is about 10 diapers per day for one two year old boy.
And then we get into the clothing changes. At daycare he rarely comes home in the same outfit he went in. I don't know why. His teachers like him to be clean - and so they usually change his outfit at least once a day if not more.
Mind Boggling.

Am a C, a D or a G - we will never know

Will a bra revolutionize my life?
Hmmmm ...
This question has come up over and over again. Of course I heard the story on Oprah. A friend of mine went right out and got a bra fitting and got a couple of nice new bras.
And then one night when I was out with some of my colleagues the conversation about bra fittings came up. It turns out that there is a wonderful store on the Danforth that fits you properly. I was told I must go to Sophia's for the perfect bra - pronto.
I did set a date with someone to go, but realized (thanks to my thrifty husband) that it would be a little bit ridiculous to spend close to $100 on an undergarment when I am trying to lose weight. So I held off.
And then said shafted colleague sent me the following link today:
(http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1208335,00.html?cnn=yes).
And the question that came to my mind was - will a bra really make a difference in my life.
I doubt that it would take 20 years off my age. I am not even sure if it would make me look that much slimmer. But, I really am quite intrigued. Can a well fitting bra make life easier?
I asked my friend (who will remain unnamed) whether her expensive bras changed her life. Her response wasn't quite up to Oprah's enthusiastic response, but she really was quite positive. It turns out that her clothes fit better, she looks better and she knows what size to buy.
Others have told me that they have more self confidence and even have less pain.
And, yet I resist.
I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps I feel I am perky enough. Perhaps I feel like my clothes are fitting me just fine. But, I think that realistically, I just don't want to know my size.
I have heard of people going into the bra store thinking they are a 34c and leaving a 32G!!!! That is a lot of baggage.
What comes after G? What is considered too large? What is the ideal band size? Apparently it doesn't matter, but let's be honest. I think I would have a complete meltdown in the middle of Sophia's if I was told I was a G (or worse). And, for that matter, what is worse? What letters to bras go to? Why can you buy a DD if there are E's and F's and G's? I don't get it.
And I am afraid. Very afraid.
But, if I were to spend the big bucks on a bra I think this is what I would go for:
http://www.freshpair.com/Le-Mystere-Dream-Tisha-Underwire-Bra-9955.html

PS I will be going back to mommy blogging, but this week there have been many non-mommy things going around in my head.

Introspective

Maybe I'm feeling a tad introspective today, but there's so much rolling around in my head today that I'm taking a break from my typical diary like blog entry to amuse myself and my thoughts.

This weekend I had a bit of a break. Saturday the boys went to Peterborough while I spent a completely selfish day of self-indulgence. I did some movie watching, some cleaning, some hair highlighting, went for a walk and ate a dinner I loved.

And it made me think a little about this life I have right now. In a sense I'm somewhat conflicted. Is it okay to like life and to hate life and be stuck in the middle? Becuase I think that is where I am. On the one hand I LOVE some aspects of my life. I have what I always wanted. I have a home and a family. I have a car and a cat and I have some really good friends. And, we are starting to sort through a bunch of the stuff we faced when we were a little younger.

And, then I start to wonder - where is the drama? Where is the passion? Where is the excitement that makes me look forward to getting up in the morning, or more accurately that makes me so drained in the morning because I can't sleep at night? Where did it go and why did it go? And, do I really want it back? I think I look back on the drama of university and of early marriage and think of it in a positive excited way and I forget that with the drama came tears.

And work also plays into this picture. I'm always reading about getting ahead. Taking that next step in your career. But, I often wonder, is it okay to be happy where I am? I cut a little top 10 list out of Glamour a couple of years ago, and it was called the Top 10 things that are okay to be happy about. In them were that it is okay to be happy about your job whether or not you are the CEO of a company or not. And, lately I've realized that I actually do quite enjoy coming to work. I like that I have friends here and that we do some fun corporate events. I enjoy knowing I have a pension (albeit small since I've been only paying into it for a year) and I even enjoy the pretty constant hours every day.Does it mean I'll be here till retirement? I dunno. I doubt it. That's like 38 years away, and who knows where I'll be in 38 years? But, for now, I'm content. Is there drama? Not really. I mean there is some, but not excessive drama like in previous jobs. And I am grateful that my job description now does not include screaming at warehouse people who shipped the wrong shoes. Trust me - I'll take our mailroom (without the frigid lack of heat and air conditioning that the shoe warehouse lacked) anyday.

But, what does contentment breed? Does it breed laziness? Or am I constantly looking for something new. Is it okay to search for excitement still? I think it is okay to be a mom but still want to develop myself fully as a person. I think it's just fine to say that I devote myself to motherhood but that I still want to lose some weight and dye my hair and do my nails. In fact, I think that maybe this lack of contentment with myself in fact makes me better. And I think it all ties into one.

I don't know. BUt I'm thinking through all of these. Bring on the Drama, Mama! I'm waiting.

The great bathing suit hunt

Edit to the post below: I FOUND a bathing suit. I really did try on a total of 33 bathing suits to find it. My mom directed to me to, of all places, Sears. I literally took in every single bathing suit in my size that was decent (i.e. not a bikini - and side note I'm all for bikinis if you can pull it off which I can't). The last one I had pulled off the rack was this cute black and white 2 piece but the bottom is actually a skirt. It fits and is flattering enough. Mike said I should post the picture of me in it on my blog. Ummm - no. Well, maybe if he wears his Speedo for the camera - LOL - there are no speedos allowed in my house.

Today I started my hunt for the great bathing suit.
There was a lot of criteria on my mental list including: 1) full coverage of tummy 2)comfortable 3) not a flowery "mum" suit - and by this I do not mean my mom hence the spelling difference and 4) and most important proper boob support.
I think today I tried on 17 bathing suits. I tried on both one and two piece bathing suits.
I went in knowing that I have lost almost 20 pounds since May and I keep reminding myself that it would be way worse if I had that weight still on and also that I would probably not like my bathing suit clad image.
And, let's be honest. My self esteem is not that horrible. I mean I'm not about to send in my picture to Tyra at America's Next Top Model, but I also have a bit of a feeling that you have to take me as I am and that like it or not I am and probably always will be a little bit chubby.
So, having said that, I am beginning to think that bathing suit manufacturers are setting us up for diapppointment.
There are some great bathing suits out there - as long as you are a size 6 or less.
For instance, I say the cutest whit bathing suit with an underwire bra that would keep everything in place. The problem - the cup size really only goes up to a B. I have never been a B. well, maybe when I was 12.
But, not in the last like 15 years. Even when I was skinnier never a B.
And I kept finding this. Tiny bathing suits have underwire, larger bathing suits (like size 8 and up which is hardly "large") do not.
So, I hunted and tried things on. I tried different sizes and colours. My downfall, literally, was in the cleavage department. I just need some wire.
There were also several other problems I discovered. For instance, there are code words you want to avoid. "tummy tamer" means excess fabric and a large print. "Bust enhancer" means ruffles or lace. "Body Shaper" means relaly unattractive.
And then I thought I found what may be a great bathing suit. It was a lime green colour and it seemed kind of supportive. I was kind of admiring myself when I noticed one large downfall - IT WAS SEE THROUGH!!
I actually started to giggle at the hilarity of it. I mean - I would be on vacation chasing after my toddler and be basically naked. I may even take the attention away from the woman who inevitably sits in the beach chair at the resort with the thong bathing suit. (and I don't mean a pretty model. I mean the woman who you really wonder "what was she thinking - she's going to get hemorrhoids!)
And so back went the lime green bathing suit.
I now continue on the hunt for the perfect bathing suit.
Will I find it?
I dunno.

My Ballerina

Kyla with her jumbo flowers after her recital

Last night was my first ever ballet recital.
To clarify, it was my niece Kyla's ballet recital and I had the opportunity to go as the doting aunt. I left my boys at home and went off to Hamilton Place to watch my niece in her first show.
Truthfully, I had no idea what to expect. I hav enever taken a ballet class. It's not because my parents weren't willing to let me try. It's just that it was never even discussed in our house. I was not exactly the most graceful child, and I never had any sort of interest in donning a pink tutu and leotard, unlike my niece who at age 2 announced to us that she wanted to be a ballerina.
So, when the big night of the ballet recital came, I was pretty darn excited (and a little worried that I wouldn't make it there in time).
Thankfully I thought to call one of my colleagues, whose teenager is a fairly accomplished dancer, and asked him the etiquette of ballet recitals. What does one wear, what does one bring, what can I expect? And, he was more than happy to fill me in and send me some pictures of his daughter.

Kyla and her mom, my sister Becky

The grand decision was to bring a bunch of pink flowers to the recital and spoil her like crazy. Which I did. I called a florist and explained that I needed a nice bouquet of pretty pink flowers for my neice's first ballet recital.
So, back to the evening.
I finally found my family when I arrived just before the doors opened. Of course they were in the front of the line (thank goodness for our obsessive family organization and timeliness). We sat right at the front.
I was really really impressed by the show. There was never a dull moment - it was that organized. And, it was arranged so they had a more senior group or single dancer followed by little ones. That way the spotlight was shared by all, and it kept moving.
And, it was amazing to me how good some of these kids were.
But the highlight was of course when Kyla took the stage.
Kyla is almost 4 and honestly the cutest little girl in the world. (she shares this honour with my other niece Paige who currently holds the title of cutest baby in the world).

Kyla and Aunt Laural

She was in a Hawaiian outfit complete with grass skirt. She went on with her class. They were just the cutest things ever. Their class is "baby ballet". They stayed together and did a few spins and such and then this little hip wiggle move. ADORABLE.
And then a couple of them fell. Kyla went down and then they helped each other up and kept going.
I have never been prouder.
She really was a star.
When it was all over I explained that the flowers were for her. I think the florist and I went a little overboard because she could barely hold them. (why did I not listen to Beth who said to buy one rose for every year old she is - that was smart - oh wait because I wanted to be extragant).
It was such a wonderful evening.

A Play Date

Last night we (Matthew and I) had a play date with some of our friends.
I got an e-mail yesterday morning from my friend asking if I wanted to come over for coffee and playtime before bed.
It's pretty convenient since we do live down the hall from each other, so I immediately agreed.
I have to admit, I was a little tentative about it. Not because I don't have a great time with Ginny. Of course I do - she's the person who got me through that first year.
What I was worried about was that a) Matt would bite one or both of her daughters b)Matt would tear their house apart or c) and this is the biggie for me, that the friendship between the kids that we had always hoped for may not work out.
It's not that they hadn't played together - it's just that it has been with other kids. This was a real playdate.
I sound like I'm in high school - we've hung out in groups but we've never been alone on a date.
Anyway ...
Much to my surprise, the evening went really well.
First off, we'd all had dinner, so that was a good start. And, the truth is the kids just had fun. When I actually relaxed and didn't work about the dynamics it was fun. Mac, her older daughter, was just really fun with Matt. She set up a train track (she's 3 and a half) and let him run his train along it. Lindsey, the same age as Matty, did her own thing for awhile and then joined them in the play.
My favourite part of the evening was when they all started jumping on the bed and playing games. There's really pure and fresh about watching toddlers just laughing and playing and not having a care in the world. We just kind of watched them and let them enjoy each other's company.
Sometimes I get worried about what is out there for Matt - who he will be friends with, whether he'll fit in, how he'll do in school. And, then I watch him and I realize that he'll be just fine.

Good Karma or Good Day - I'll take either

Given that the beginning of my week wasn't the best I decided that a mid-week turnaround was in order.
Why? Okay well partly because I was feeling pretty sorry for myself (my sunburn hurt, I was stressed about the biting and I was just tired) and I sort of kind of whined to someone in the mailroom who told me he had no sympathy. Nice. And, then I realized I was being silly and turned the week around.
I did a couple of things that I think caused some pretty good karma.
First, the biting thing. I decided that I'd had my say about my hurt feelings. I spoke with the daycare teachers and supervisor and we came up with some tactics on how to deal with this. And then I realized that in the process of being upset I'd probably hurt the feelings of the daycare teacher who got me mad.
So I sat down and wrote her a really long note about all the things we love about her. And, I went in and cleared the air. We were both hugging. It was a good moment. She told me wonderful things about Matt and promised not to be critical of my parenting. And, Matt didn't bite anyone yesterday!!!
Next, was a bit of a bigger thing. I gave my bike trailer away.
I bought it last year in this quest to be a cool mom. But, after reading like a zillion blogs these past couple of months and hanging out more with one of my great friends (Run, Ginny, Run) I realized that I didn't need to hold on to something that I had pruchased for the sole reason of making other parents think I was cool, a good mom, or whatever.
I heard about a woman who needed a bike trailer to get to her cancer treatments. Seriously.
So I got in touch and I gave it to her.
And, it made me feel really good. And it also made met get over the silliness of being cranky.
So, the week is looking up. Good Karma? I don't know. But whatever it is I'll take it.