Protective Mom first, Dutiful Daughter second...

Although I've been a Mom for well over two years now, I feel like a hard-core Mom today. That primal 'protect your babies' instinct was in full effect, and I must say, it felt pretty damned good.
The situation was that my mother may or may not be coming to mind the boys for a period of time this spring while Baby Daddy and I go on a much-needed US ONLY trip. Two weeks ago, my Mum excitedly told me that my stepfather would be coming with her and that he could help cut some trees down on our property and help with the boys. As a side-note, my stepfather and I have had a very rocky past. I was a typical teenage girl, but he was both emotionally and physically abusive towards me from the ages of 12 through to 17 (when I moved out and took refuge with my then-best friend and her family). He was also a raging alcoholic and was raised in a house where physical abuse was the norm. I truly believe that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and along with that, I have never let my past define me. In my 20s, I confronted him and told him I'd forgiven him for his actions towards me, and I've been cordial with him since. Five years ago, there was another incident where I'd visited my Mum and slept at her home one evening, only to wake in the middle of the night to find my stepfather stroking my face and saying he was just enjoying watching me sleep. I then refused to ever sleep there again, and then realized that he had not changed at all. Since then, all of the alcohol has taken its toll on his body. Less than 1% of his liver is functional, his mid-section is completely distended and he is on a strict diet to ensure he doesn't die. He has told my Mum that he feels bad about how he treated me and wanted to be very involved in my life. Like I said, I've kept things cordial. I feel bad he's dying, but I also believe that karma can be one wicked bitch to those who are most deserving. Back to now. I have been anxiety-ridden and not sure how to tell my Mum that he's not welcome here while we are away and where he would have full, unsupervised access to my precious babies. So, I told her exactly that. I said that I was sorry if what I was about to say hurt her, but that my children come first above anything or anyone else, and that protecting them was my priority. I also told her one of my favourite Maya Angelou quotes, "Believe people when they show you who they are...the first time." I said that I did not trust that he'd changed and that I would cancel my trip should he decide to come. Mum said she "gets it" but doesn't agree because she has seen the change in him. I told her that I understood if she no longer wanted to come out, or if my feelings caused a rift between us, and that I was willing to risk that for the safety of my children. She truly did not understand why I felt this way. I tried to explain, but to no avail. Things are fine (I think) between us, but I know she's sad. Which, in turn, makes me sad.

One thing I know or sure is that if my teenage self and my 34-year-old self met, and I said that he was coming to watch the kids while I was gone, my teen self would kick my older-self's ass - big time. Seriously, though, I spent hours, days, weeks during my teenage years planning how I could escape from his house, vowing to never let him (or my Mum) have access to me as an adult or any of my children. I've read and re-read journal entries from that time period, and it is heart-breaking. To allow him that kind of access would ...well, I'm not even going to go there because I've made my wishes clear. I can hear my teen self right now cheering me on, and I am so proud!

My Year in words...

I can't believe 2009 is already over. Actually, I can't believe that the first decade of the millennium is over. It seems like just yesterday I was in my early 20s, single, fresh out of university, and wondering where I'd be in 10 years' time. The interesting thing is that I'm exactly where I thought I'd be. I have my incredibly sexy, amazing, kind, respectful husband, and my beautiful boys. I have the two best friends anyone could ask for, a nice home, a job, and a loving extended family. Despite any hardships that have happened over the past decade, life is pretty effing good!

The arrival of BB2 was by far THE moment of 2009 for us. I was so worried that I would be causing BB1's world to collapse...I mean, he was the center of our universe, the focus of all our love and attention...but as one of my best friends said, "You're not taking anything away from him. In fact, you're giving him the best gift ever; a best friend for life." So true. The two boys are completely aware and in awe of one another. One is always searching for the other, either in sight, or verbally. My hope remains that they are best friends. With BB2's arrival came a huge shift in our family. Just when I was into a secure routine with BB1, it all got shot to shit on August 23, 2009. Anyone out there with 2+ kids knows what I'm talking about. Just as one was falling asleep, the other would wake. I have two kids in diapers, and an endless dirty laundry hamper. Some days I have woken up and literally not known how to get the day started and would just sit with my babies and wonder how to get moving. Apparently my reactions have been quite normal. I can see that now that I'm on the other side of the 3-month hump. I have learned to embrace the chaos, and have learned the most valuable parenting lesson ever: First and foremost, kids need your love...always. Kids don't care if the dishwasher is empty. The fact that your bed is or isn't made every morning won't get them into an Ivy-League school. Their future happiness does not hinge on whether or not their Lego blocks are cleaned up and organized every night after they've gone to sleep.

Our NYE was, again, perfect. Lobster, steak, wine, peanut M&Ms, movies, and most importantly, each other. I thank my lucky stars that I am so blessed to be part of this incredible family unit. I could not have wished myself anything better.

Finally, my resolutions for 2010...pretty simple. I will work on being a better listener.

In closing, I wish you the best year that you've ever had.

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Sugar and spice and everything nice...

It's now a mere 26 days until BK2's due date. Considering it's only friends (and a few select family members) who read 'My e-Soapbox', I feel that I can be open with you and trust that you'll allow BD and I to share our news of BK2's gender ourselves.

That being said, BB1 is going to have a BB2! The new little one is healthy, and an active little bugger. We're both over the moon and I certainly wouldn't change anything.

I've always dreamt of having 3 children. In fact, a psychic once told me that I would have two boys and one girl (she revealed this when I was pregnant with BB1). I'm getting older, and my body is physically drained from all the pregnancies (in the past 4 years I've been pregnant at least once each year). I really think that this may be it for us. A wise friend did share with me that making that decision at 36.5 weeks gestation probably isn't wise - thanks, Lisa! Anyhow, am I okay with only boys? With only two children? I've long had dreams in my mind of having a daughter. Of her and I being close, shopping together, and even the inevitable drifting apart phase during the teen years. Then there's the coming together afterwards, the close bond, the friendship...But wait. None of that is guaranteed. One tidbit of info consistent across the Mommy-board is that you will always have more in common with one child than another...that's natural. Just because you have a daughter, doesn't mean it's going to be sugar and spice and everything nice, right? And who's to say that a mother can't have that same bond, that same close relationship/friendship with her son(s)?

Additionally, say BD and I tried for a third for the sake of a potentially having a girl, what would happen if we had another boy? Keep trying again? I can say right now, from my heart, that if we were to try for a third, it's because we want another child, and we would be happy with whatever we were lucky enough to create together.

Here are two of my favourite quotes on sons:

"We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters. " ~Gloria Steinem

"You don't raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes." ~Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

In closing, I still can't stress enough how happy and blessed we feel/are. Two boys! It's going to be an adventure, a wild ride, and we truly feel our family is complete. Plus, I won't have to share my tiara ;)

Tragic Endings, New Beginnings, and Hangovers...

It is indeed the end of an era. Regardless of how you felt about Michael Jackson, there is no denying the man was a virtuoso. When I first learned about his death last Thursday, I simply thought, "Ok, I guess this is just another one of life's 'where were you when' moments," and moved on from there. After a couple of days of retrospective, however, I believe that the entertainment world has truly lost one of the greats. The man was a genius, and as it usually works with genius types, all of their eggs tend to be in one basket. For MJ, he was an amazing performer/musician. His true self/weird self really only came out into the public eye in the 90's. I don't believe that he molested any children, but I do believe that he was eccentric enough to believe that spending time with young kids would somehow help preserve his own youth through osmosis. I also believe that the MJ that everyone used to love died a long, long time ago. I feel terribly for his family, and especially for his children. I never had the good fortune to see him for a live performance, but as a little girl I certainly danced and sang the hell out of his songs. Yesterday me and BB1 (and BK2 by default) spent a solid hour dancing around the main floor of our home to every MJ hit from 'ABC-123' through to 'Scream' as our personal tribute (Goes w/o saying, but BD was out all morning, which is the only way I was actually able to blast Michael Jackson tunes). As previously stated, we've lost one of the biggest entertainers in history - hopefully he'll now find the peace that was constantly eluding him.

So, I'm kind of in crunch time now. In 7 weeks, BK2 will be making his/her appearance. I honestly don't know where the time went. I'm mildly freaked out and stoked. I've been so focused on BB1, that I never really had time to think about being pregnant or the implications thereof. So, yeah...another human will be joining our fam...and soon! I'm super excited, and much more confident this time around, but also wondering how I could possibly have enough love in me to love another person? Most of my friends have 2+ children and say that the only people who wonder that are those with only one kid. Fair enough. Growing up an only child, I never had to share my Mum's attention (or my grandparents' for that matter), or share toys, or anything really. This is going to be a completely different dynamic. I am psyched.

BD and I went to a movie this afternoon. I'd already seen 'The Hangover" but couldn't wait to see it again. Initially, I didn't even want to see it the first time simply because I thought it would be humour a-la-Superbad, which I thought was - ahem - super bad. Going in with low expectations made the movie the funniest fucking thing I've seen in a long time. Go see it; you won't be disappointed. Or maybe you will be. That would suck.

The Only Unsinkable Ship Is...

The past few days I've been run ragged. Pair that with the typical 3rd trimester lovelies, and that's pretty much where I'm at today. Correction; That's where I was today. On my way home from work, I stopped, as I always do, to pick up the mail. Flyers, bills, junk mail, and...gasp! What's this? A hand-written, cardstock envelope addressed to me! When I got home and opened it, I was moved to tears. 

My BFF, sent me an amazing card with the most beautiful message contained within...and the card was sent just to let me know she's thinking of me. It should be noted that we've been trying to get ahold of one another for weeks and weeks - with no success. We've been friends for about 16 years now, seen each other through pretty much everything from pets dying (poor Max and Sparky) to our own weddings...we've fought, gotten over it; made up dance routines to bad music (John Mellencamp song at Senior Auction, anyone?!), and would always raid one another's closets (one of the best perks about being the same size!!). 

Is any of this unique? Hardly...women the world over have close friendships that last a lifetime. There still remains a uniqueness, however, which lies in the unmatched bond experienced by each woman in her individual friendship. True friendship truly is a gift. I can count on one hand  my true friends...the people that are there for me on a moment's notice, and I them. For that, I am forever blessed.

To close, I'm going to "steal" the poem from the card that I got today, and dedicate right back to A.McC...and also send it to A.B, L.S., J.S., and K.R.:

This is What I See When I Look At You...

I see a remarkable woman

with a kind heart

who is beautiful in every sense

of the word...

When I look at you...

I see a smile that lights up

the room

and laughter that is truly contagious

I see strength and wisdom

beyone anything I have ever known

I see love - pure and true

compassion and thoughtfulness

I see a woman who walks

through this world with gentleness

and grace

I admire you for all that you are

and for all that you do

You are everything wonderful

in this world

and if I had just one wish it would be

that you could see what I see

when I look at you.

Thanks for being amazing A.McC!! Love you!

Actually, I don't remember asking for your opinion...

I'm now in week 25 of my pregnancy, and things are still going well (Yay! One more week until I'm home-free in my own mind...); So well, in fact, that I'm still running. With BB1, I did nothing. No exaggeration. Zip. I sat on my ass and ate, and read, and slept and worked. No exercise. Why I'm still surprised at my 50+ lb. weight gain, I'll never understand. This time around, I figured that pregnancy doesn't have to be a time where you hibernate and do nothing physical (especially for those of us who lead quite active lifestyles). I've been running since week 13, and am really enjoying myself. Sure, I get the odd stare, but don't think too much of it. Until last week.

I was running on one of the trails near our home when I was approached two 50-something-year-old women. One of them eyed me tip to toe, and said to the other (in a loud disgusted tone), "That's just SICK." I've been stewing over this for almost one week. Still running regularly, but stewing nonetheless. Trying to figure out the perfect comeback. Here's what I've come up with:

1. "Fuck you."

2. "You're sick. Go lose some weight, fatty."

3. "My Obstetrician has no issues with my running, so save your Google MD for someone else."

4. "Jealous?"

5. "Fuck you."

These "concerned citizens" need to mind their own beeswax. I'm participating in an upcoming 5K in 12 days. If you happen to be a spectator (at this 5K, or anywhere else), be nice. If you don't have anything nice to say, zip it. To anyone who is pregnant and still running...you go, mama!! Listen to your bod, and do what feels good.