Category Archives: Parenting

Jun 14

Busy is a Four Letter Word

Yesterday I was driving behind a man wearing an enormous hat.  This hat was so big that if it had been yellow, I would have expected him to be followed by a curious little monkey.  He was stopped at a green light, waiting for the left.  The light turned yellow and he continued to wait.  Then red, still waiting.  Perhaps his monkey was curious about something that required his attention in lieu of actually watching the road!  I sat behind him, silent screaming “Goooooooo!!!” all the while watching the clock clicking ever closer to Nanny departure time. It occurred to me, there are people in this world who are not always in a hurry?  What in the hell does that feel like?  I honestly can’t remember.

I have a faint recollection of those pre-kid Saturday mornings of leisure.  Before we had grass to cut and swimming lessons to attend.  Should we go out for breakfast or eat in?  Should we take a walk or go shopping?  How about an impromptu drive to the mountains for the day?  Choices, options, whimsy!  Oh my!

Now I feel that I’m always on the sprint but someone keeps moving the finishing line.  Geez dude!  Don’t you know you’re not supposed to sprint a whole marathon?

Weekday mornings we used to drink our coffee, read the paper (now that’s called “looking at your phone” for those of you born after 1995) and eventually get ourselves to the office with plenty of time to spare.  With kids added to the equation and there is now seemingly never enough time. 

It’s like the scene where the Wicked Witch of the West turns over the hourglass and I, like Dorothy, only have an hour before those creepy flying monkeys will tear me to shreds for the ruby slippers (for the record, if those are Louboutin ruby slippers the f$&@ing monkeys are going to have to pry them from my dead feet).  We race through the morning chaos with the sceptre of the school bell hanging over us like that green crone with an aversion to water. 

No matter how much sleep everyone gets, we’re always shaking the kids awake.  I find myself saying things like “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey”.  I mean c’mon, only someone completely unglued says such ridiculous things! It’s amazing.  We can set out clothes and pre-pack lunches the night before but that hour before school is always a quest for lost library books and show and tell treasures. 

I say the words “eat”, “get dressed”, “where are your shoes”, “yes, you have to wear pants” repeatedly until we are finally out the door.  I think it would be most efficient if I just recorded myself repeating these lines over and over again and just playing them on a loop.  Then at least I’d have time to drink more coffee.

At 8:45am we’re off, if we’re lucky.  I personally think that my speed walking skills since the kids started school are practically Olympic level.  The trouble is that I can only get about half a block when I have to stop and wait for them to catch up.  “Look Mom, a snail.”  IMG_1171

Once the littles are carefully and tenderly deposited at each of their classrooms, I start my day.  Now I really get to train as THE 2020 Speed Walking gold medallist.  If that race is 4 blocks, I will KILL it!  Multi-tasking like any other self-respecting Mom, I email, text and phone call my way back home.  All the while following the walking version of the Man in the Big Hat from the traffic light.  Oh look, he found a snail too.  Seriously dude, you need to move it!

I know you know.  We’re all doing it, except for hat guy of course and all those childless millennials who are binge-watching Netflix.  I binge watch too – between 9-9:30pm every night.  So there.

Dec 11

Its Beginning to Look A Lot Like…

…a Meltdown.

Happy Holidays!  Are you still with me?  Are you coping ok with all the festive, joyous chaos on your calendar.  I think I am, for now.

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Two kids.  Two concerts.  Potlucks, Secret Santas, Hampers, International Shipping, Shopping, Buying, Wrapping, RSVP’ing, Dressing, Planning, Ordering, Running, Drinking, Eating, Drinking, Eating.  Its the most magical time in the year.  I BELIEVE!

When you’re the Chief Event Planner, Chief in Charge of Acquisitions and Head of Hospitality in your house, Christmas delivers the trifecta of a f*$%load to do.  I’m doing my best to ignore my inner GOOP, my Martha-esque tendencies for the perfect tree and the ultimate gift.  I’m TRYING.  Not totally succeeding but doing my best.

Its the final sprint at the end of the year.  All leading to that moment on December 24 when the dinner is served, the gifts are wrapped, the kids are in bed and the chips will fall where they may.  Over a Bailey’s on the rocks we’ll breath a sigh of relief and settle in for a long winter’s nap (only to be awoken by gift-hungry kids at sunrise).

Until then my recurring nightmare will rear its ugly head.  It’s Christmas Eve and I’ve forgotten to do EVERYTHING!  Every shop is closed except the local gas station.  Good thing the kids like scratch and win tickets windshield washer fluid, right?

I know I’m not alone.  You hang in there people.  We’re almost there and we’re in this thing together.  Smile when you open that gift from a colleague knowing how much thought and more importantly EFFORT went into that box of chocolates. Have patience with your friends when they double book themselves and miss your party.  Love your family for caring enough to work so hard to make Christmas a magical day for you.  Yes, hang in there friends, we are indeed almost there.

XOXO
The R&R Mom

 

Sep 15

Order in the Court

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I need order.  I crave it.  I go crazy when I don’t have it.  I am a professional organizer.  I put order to chaos every day for a living.  I love it.  Its probably a bit of a control thing – the need to prepare myself (or anyone around me) for any potentiality is my religion.  I pray to the god of listmaking.  I thrive on tools to further organize my world.  I’m 43 years old and I know this about myself.  I’m a planner, a preparer, an organizer.  Want to make me crazy?  Then put me in a place where I can’t organize my way out of it.

And that my dear friends is precisely where I am right now.  Mid-renovation on an insurance claim.  I’m beholden to the schedule of several contractors (and we all know how reliable they can be) and an insurance company (enough said, right?).  My house is upside down with boxes all over the place, dust in every crevice and appliances spread willy-nilly throughout my living room.  The past month has been a series of plans, then amendments, then cancellations, then new plans, then someone dropping the ball, then disappointment, then freaking out, then yet another new set of plans and so on and so on.  It has been a constant re-calibration and its making me crazy.

So much right now is so far out of my control.  Add to that the madness that is back to school and the usual September shenanigans as we all clamber back into the swing of non-vacation life.  And all I want to do is cry.  It probably started with the white chalk debacle of 2015, moved swiftly into summer travel busy-ness and then this piece of sh*t reno situation.  The real drag is that we’re not even getting something new and exciting.  We’re repairing something that went wrong and its in the whole house, so we’re upside down in every single room.

And here I am, trying to wrestle back some semblance of order and control over what feels like a runaway situation.  I can’t seem to get a schedule from anyone or a clear answer on what still has to be done.  So all I can do is try and re-establish some organization.  If that means scrubbing the toilets to do it, then that’s where I’m at.  Cleaning.  Scouring away any hint of a manicure while I curse the misogynistic world of construction and quietly try to rinse away any of the bad vibes these dudes have left in my home.  As I climbed the counter top to wash the walls and ceilings, wondering what these jokers have in store for us next I realized how smart it would have been to invest in a good pair of rubber gloves.

The cathartic nature of a good solid cleaning session, coupled with a mantra to accept what comes my way is where I’m trying to be.  But in the meantime I’ll make sure I have the name of a good lawyer in my back pocket just in case… and a manicure booked for good measure.  Wish me luck.

Aug 25

White Chalk????

Its the end of August and its mayhem.

The last week of my life has been a little hectic, to the say the least.  In addition to a busy time in the office its also back to school prep time.  Which means its also appointment booking time.  And its massive acquisition time.  We’re also about to fly across the country for 10 days for a cottage stay AND a family wedding (read: packing for 4 people for a trans-continental trip with the two main activities on the exact opposite end of the wardrobe spectrum).  Add to that my entrepreneurial husband’s move into a new office space and the fact that the floors in our 18 month year old house are about to be replaced.  ALL OF THEM.  Yeah, so if I told you that I enjoy a large-ish glass of wine after work today I am sure you wouldn’t judge.  Right?

To say I could snap at any moment would be an understatement.  Am I holding it together ok?  The answer is a resounding “for now”.  My biggest worry is the proverbial straw that will break this Mother’s back.  At the moment, the straw just might be white chalk.  What now?  Yep, you heard me right – WHITE CHALK.

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WTF.  White Chalk.  The bain of existence!

Shorty #2 is kicking off her preschool career this September and as part of her care package to contribute to the classroom (in addition to a pack of pencil crayons, some glue and an earthquake kit) the school has requested a box of plain white chalk.  Seems easy enough right?  Well, I’ve been to 3 stores already and NO WHITE CHALK.  Multi-coloured chalk a plenty – but no white chalk to be found.

Keep in mind that I have a full time job, 2 kids and a husband and have been running around the city for the past week dealing with all the shit on my plate and getting myself into 3 separate stores, all of which do indeed carry chalk but none of it white is just the sort of thing that could push me over the edge.  Like really?  What would happen if I drop the Shorty off for her 3 week gradual entry program (oh, THAT my friends is a whole other blog post) with a pack of multi-coloured chalk.  Would the teachers forgive and forget?  Or would I be forever branded as a problem parent.  Imagine, the scenario.  The one teacher says to the other “We’re missing one field trip payment.  Who could it be that hasn’t submitted?”  And she replies “I know.  Its that Mom who brought the multicoloured chalk.  Can’t follow instructions.”

These are the things running through my head when I wake at 4am. White chalk where are you????

May 21

Red Red Wine

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What is it with Moms and wine?  I’ve always enjoyed wine.  But since I’ve become a Mom, me and wine are kind of tight.  We used to buy a bottle here and there for when we had dinner parties or a special occasion.  Maybe we’d treat ourselves in a restaurant.  But now, I have a rack in the basement.  Well, actually we have (ahem) two racks.  I keep bottles of sauvignon blanc in the fridge; one open and one ready to open.  We have nice bottles we save for that aforementioned special occasion but now we keep “everyday wine” in the house.  Do we have a problem?  And what is the correlation with the arrival of our kids on the scene?

Lets think about this.  We all know that Moms + Wine is a thing.  Its a running gag.  A joke.  Moms like wine.  Moms need wine to cope.  I don’t think that I need wine more now that I’ve had kids (well, maybe a little more….) but I can say that I like it more.  Did this love affair kick in when my kids were born and I was nursing so I couldn’t very well jump right back into scotch on the rocks territory?  Was that it?  Its like booze light.  You’re practically encouraged to indulge in a glass of wine or two while you’re breastfeeding.

There is always the intimation that Moms need wine to cope with all the sh*t (figuratively AND literally) that their kids throw at them.  I wouldn’t say that I need wine to dull the senses from kid-related trauma as much as it is a nice treat at the end of a long day of wearing so many hats and juggling so many people that need your undivided attention.  Its like going for a pedicure, except for the fact that you enjoy it sitting at your kitchen table and no one will rub your feet.

I’ve grown so accustomed to that lovely glass of wine at the end of a long day that on a recent business trip in NYC very late one night, I was ready for a glass of wine.  The hotel we were at was under receivership or up for sale or some other such nonsense and the hotel bar was closed.  I found myself in a greasy pizza take out joint in the Village and lo and behold in the cooler next to the diet coke were tiny little bottles of the sh*ttiest pinot grigio one could find.  I squealed when I saw it!  I took a little mini-bottle to the cashier along with my contraband full gluten/ all dairy/ full grease NYC cheese pizza 1am dinner only to be completely denied!

“Sorry Ma’am” (ugh, now I’m really in Mom territory), “But I can’t let you take this wine out of here.  You have to drink it now.”

So that was then I had to face the facts.  How much has this wine indulgence of mine actually become a problem?  Did I need my “pedicure” so bad after a long day that I was willing to chug-a-lug a crap mini-bottle of PG in front of 3 dudes in the middle of a greasy Greenwich Village pizza joint?

“Um. No thanks.”  I said as I tromped out with my slice.

I got back to the hotel hoping and praying the bar was miraculously open.  No luck.  Now I’m sure you’re all thinking, “But you’re in NYC.  The City that Never Sleeps?  C’mon R&R Mom hit a bar!”  But I’m a girl.  Alone.  On the road.  Who’s over 40.  And Married.  And a total scaredy cat.  So I went back to my room and double bolted the door.  I opened the minibar.  No dice.  The whole receivership/ sale drama caused the grand full hotel mini-bar clean out earlier that day.  I needed my fix.  It was late.  I had jetlag.  It was a long rough day.  I wanted ONE glass of wine.  Is that so wrong????

Just then I turned to see there on the desk, a pile of room service plates with their nifty silver covers.  Huh.  I wasn’t in all day.  Who ordered these?  Stinky cheese, warm fruit and stale crackers.  But there, right beside it stood the most beautiful bottle of mediocre chianti that I have ever seen.  Well, being the Canadian that I am I immediately picked up the phone and called the reception:

“I’m sorry. (we Canadians ALWAYS say that) But it seems someone has mistakenly delivered some room service to my room.  Some stinky cheese and warm fruit.  But there’s also a full UNOPENED bottle of wine.” I said.

“Was there a note?” said the somewhat irritated front desk worker.

“Uhhh, no.”

“Then I guess its complimentary.”

Huh, well I guess it was the WINE FAIRY!!!!!!  Thank YOU beloved WINE FAIRY!!!!  You heard my plea and took pity on this old bag and her addiction.  I cracked that bottle, poured a solid 4 fingers, drank half and fell fast asleep.

And that my friends is just one more story of Moms and their relationship with wine.

May 13

Midnight Writer

At 4am I wrote the most awesome blog post ever.  Seriously.  It was brilliant.  The topic was timely, the funny was hilarious and the writing was spectacular.  I wrote it all in my head.  Can I remember a word of it?  Ummm, no.  Can I remember the subject matter?  Nope, not a chance.

Why didn’t I get up and put pen to paper?   Why?????

It was 4am and I was all nestled in my bed so the chances of me getting up to record the most amazing creative streak was slim to none anyways.  I guess that’s why I’m a blogger and not a world famous writer.  I appear to be lacking in the commitment, right?  Right.

So here I am.  Wracking my brains trying to remember what it was about and I’m turning up blanks.  Just like that brilliant concept for a TV show that I had and the great melody that rang through my sleepy brain, gone.  All of it complete genius, lost forever to the land of nod.

It is possible I suppose that just like things seem worse in the middle of the night, perhaps my genius seems more clever than it actually is.  Perhaps the sleep goggles are magnifying my creative streak of brilliance.  Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear, creative thoughts in the night are less smart than you believed.  This could be true.  But until I can remember we’ll never really know, will we?  For now, lets just say that I am a wealth of creative energy between 3- 4am each night and for now I’m just keeping it all to myself.  So there.

May 11

Cry Me a River

Do what you love... if you can find the time...

Do what you love… if you can find the time…

Yeah, I know.  Its been over a month since my last post.  LAME.  I get it.  The only excuse I can muster is life.  Its busy.  Break neck pace, I wanna punch someone in the kidney busy.  Its true that I do prefer busy to bored, but its so busy right now I’m struggling to keep it all together.

Its when all the worlds collide.  Super busy stuff at the office (like MEGA busy) and too much stuff to manage at home.  Just today I’ve been navigating a dead tree, a warranty claim on our new floors, window washing, preschool enrollment and scrambling to book the birthday party I should have booked weeks ago.  None of these things seem to be easy to do.

All this on the heels of yet another lice infestation at our house so we’re up to our follicles in tea tree treatments, essential oils and nit combs.  Its so fun.  The two hour ritual every night of combing through the locks of two very impatient and irritated wee lassies.  I check myself every day but the phantom creepy crawly itch never goes away even though I haven’t found a bugger yet.  *shudder*

There’s something about the springtime for out and out scheduling challenges, right?  Shorty #1 is in a choir so we’re ramping up for the end of the year performance.  Its rehearsals and choreography and now I get to try and make her a bird costume.  Got that?  A freaking bird costume!!

We’re spring flinging at the school so that means volunteering to do something that isn’t atrocious (like trying to bake sh*tty cupcakes).  Its also time for fundraising and donations.  Fun runs and silent auctions and such.  Its all a little manic when Mommy has to go on the road next week.

If only cloning was ok…

Dec 19

D-BAD: The Holiday Edition

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Oh the weather outside is frightful and the fire is so delightful, but I’m heading out to buy cough syrup and wrapping paper.  ‘Tis the season as they say…

Its been a while since my last edition of D-BAD aka Don’t Be A Douche.  Today’s post pays tribute (or lack there of) to a number of things that are making life interesting during this most wonderful time of the year.

To The Brand New Zit On My Chin:

Thank you for deciding to appear NOW just in time for the busy holiday social season.  You could have had the decency to wait until after New Year’s when social plans will consist of a guaranteed pyjama day?  But NOOOO.  Why NOW? Could you just work your way out of my system fast?  OK?  Got that you disgusting blemish – DON’T BE A DOUCHE.

To My Car:

You know I love you and you have been the most reliable bucket of bolts for the past 7 years.  Plus you have the best stereo I own.  But why won’t you start?  What’s the deal?  Did I do something wrong?  I take you for regular maintenance.  I make sure your gas tank is always full.  Aside from the odd coffee cup on the floor in the back seat, I take care of you.  But, like your pal Zit On My Chin – WHY NOW????  Can’t you see it’s Christmas?  Surely you would have some sense of the impending chaos after all the trips to the mall and the amount of times I’ve had to put junk in your trunk (shhhh all you people with dirty minds).  I need you now.  This is not the time to get bitchy.  I love you car, but seriously DON’T BE A DOUCHE.  I’m willing to overlook this little indiscretion if the mechanic sees that this is just one of those glitchy little things that’s easy and cheap to fix.  But if you’re really going to be temperamental we might need to rethink our relationship.

To The Online Shopping Outlet:

Can we have a heart to heart here?  I’m an organized person.  A planner some might say.  I reached out to you in early December and placed several orders for distribution across the country.  I did this in plenty of time so all the packages would arrive well before the big day.  However, completely unbeknownst to me, you are struggling with the volume of purchases and seem to be unable to ship items for 7-8 days.  So that means the shipping estimate you gave me will take another full week or more than I expected.  Now the gifts may not make it in time.  In this case, you’ve already been a douche.  So thanks for that.

So there you have it.  Three current objects of my derision this holiday season.  I’m sure you have one or two as well.  Thanks for letting me vent.

XO

The R&R Mom

 

 

Dec 6

Hustle Bustle Blah

Even the big man is pressed for time...

Even the big man is pressed for time…

Fa-la-la-la-la… its that time of the year again when the pressure is on to take supermom status to a whole new level.  There’s gift buying/wrapping/ delivering, baking, card writing, greeting sending, party going, pageant attending, house decorating, charity giving and general mass organization.  I am the self-appointed project manager of Christmas in our house.

I love Christmas.  Always have.  You’ll never hear a humbug out of me.  Twinkling lights, Bing Crosby, Chestnuts – I love it!  Okay maybe not the chestnuts.  (Have you ever tried roasted chestnuts?  Um euw.)  But it is a lot of work when already juggling momhood with my day job.  So this year I’m trying to go easy on myself and online shopping has become my new best friend.  No more running around the crowded mall, sweating profusely and hoping you’ll find that EXACT thing in the right colour and size.  Hello online shops, you freaking rule.  I just ordered gifts, had them wrapped and delivered from the comfort of my couch.  Does it feel like cheating?  Absolutely.  Am I going to keep doing it?  I’d be stupid not too.  Its all about time management you see and if I did all of that on foot it would take the better part of an afternoon.

And how about those pesky teacher’s gifts.  I mean, poor teach, you probably have a pile of stinky lotions and travel mugs in your desk drawer of Christmas past.  Right?  How many boxes of chocolates can one poor teacher endure.  This year, they are getting a gift in name from Unicef – Survival Gifts to community schools in need.  I figure that may be appreciated more in lieu of yet another Starbuck’s giftcard?

Its the same with the cookie situation.  For years I spent a whole December Saturday baking.  And we all know how awesome I am at that!  Not this year my friends.  Not only am I so far off the wheat and gluten train that I won’t even enjoy the little goodies, I am so bad at making them I’ll save my family the grief.  Oh yes, it will be store bought this year.  Just enough for the big day so we’re not laden with too many treats for the whole season.

This year, I will pour my extra energy in hosting whoever wants to come by for some holiday laughs, creating memories instead of adding to the pile of stuff.  So if you’re in the neighborhood, stop by.  Just don’t expect any cookies or a beautifully wrapped gift.

Nov 26

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

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If I were independently wealthy, I would be an inventor. Like Doc Brown in Back to the Future, I’d have a nifty little workshop out back of my house. Just no crazy hair or kooky glasses. I mean, I’d be an inventor with style. But seriously, I could invent so many things. Having kids creates so many needs for things. I could win the Nobel Prize for Awesome Gadgets that make a Mom’s life easier.  For instance:

A Burnt On Marshmallow Remover for the Glass on Your Gas Fireplace
Right? Do you feel me? How the f%$k am I supposed to get this burnt on sugar off the glass after #2 thought it might be a good idea to try and roast marshmallows on our fully enclosed glass gas fireplace. And that sh#t is just burning on more and more every time we turn the damn thing on. I went at it yesterday for a half an hour with a cloth and it is cooked on.

Stuffy Detector
Imagine this. Its bedtime. Teeth are brushed, PJs are on. Shorty is sufficiently tucked. But wait, something’s missing. Something vital and crucial to a successful bedtime routine. Insert super cute and/ or weird name for your Shorty’s favorite cuddly toy. Its not in the bed, not in the toy box, not in the overflowing stuffy basked (or whatever vessel you choose to store those God forsaken dust collectors). Terror strikes. Where is it??? You frantically retrace your steps of the day. Is it in the car? In the back pack? At the daycare? Or worse… is it completely lost? Some parents are smart enough to have back-ups of the favorites but not with my kids. The favorite changes every few days. How the hell am I supposed to remember who the crowned favorite is today? They all need a geo-tracking device. Then all you need to do is boop boop on your smart phone and the thing starts pinging on a map. I mean, it wouldn’t get you into the daycare at 9:00 in the evening. But at least you’d know where it is. We can start a whole daycare break-in service just to save exhausted parents the trauma and spring those waylaid toys and get them home before you can say “Go the f$%k to sleep.”

Automatic Toilet Cleaner
This is almost self-explanatory. I’m not talking about those lame blue pucks you put in the back of the toilet. I mean a real scrubbing experience because with kids everything goes everywhere. For real. A proper toilet cleaning requires more than simply some disinfecting water swirling around. From the handle to the pedestal and if you have boys then everywhere else in a 5 foot radius needs a proper scouring to be truly effective. And while we’re at it, lets throw in a splash guard for little ones learning to use the potty and need to work on their aim. This could be fabulous for boys and girls. Think about it. I need this. You NEED this!

Morning Kid Mover
This device would be able to detect what parts of the morning routine that your kids have not yet completed. It would make an announcement to remind each kid of what tasks they need to complete before its time to leave for school. I hate mornings. The nagging, the pleading, the begging, the yelling. I would gladly give this task to a machine so I can just be the good guy delivering breakfast. Imagine:

8:15am “First born child. Please pay attention. You must complete the following in the next 15 minutes. Eat breakfast, Brush your teeth, get dressed, pack your school bag, put on your coat and shoes. Please note that it is -15 C, so I recommend that you wear a warm coat, earmuffs and mittens.”

8:20am “First born child. You have not completed any of your morning tasks. You must depart for school in 10 minutes and I calculate that it will take 9 minutes, 30 seconds to complete all necessary tasks.”

8:25am “First born child. You cannot wear pyjamas to school. Your eggs are getting cold. You only have 5 minutes before you must depart for school and you are now in danger of being tardy.”

How awesome would that be??? I would LOVE not having to be the one doing the nagging.

Ahhh yes, I would be the stylish inventor creating to tools to make all of our lives a little easier. A girl can dream, right?