Two years ago my life changed forever. I knew having a child was a HUGE commitment. I knew I would love you and protect you and cherish all our moments together.
I just didn’t know how much.
I couldn’t even fathom exactly what you have come to mean to me; I don’t think anyone really does until they hold their child for the first time. I hope one day you too will know the love of having children and watching them grow.
I didn’t think I would be this sad today. Birthdays, around our house, have become just another day. But this day is different. This day signifies that you are no longer my little newborn baby, but an independent and headstrong toddler full of will and determination, already. You’ll always be mama’s little boy; but you’re not my baby anymore.
For today, you are two.
I had thought of a full long drawn out post including photos and little excerpts of what your life has meant to me so far, but I’m finding it hard to gather the words without it sounding forced. I am unbelievably choked up about the fact that you’re now two. I wasn’t expecting this to hit me so hard today; I’m completely unprepared.[Maybe this is how Daddy feels about his looming 30th birthday!?]
Just know that Mama and Daddy (or Mike as you call him) love you ever so much and always will.
Love you SweetPea, and Happy Birthday!
Love, Mama
xox
:::
I never shared Carter’s birth story here before. It’s just never really come up in *conversation* before and I don’t tend to doddle on it that much since it was pretty hellish. But here it is, for those interested:
The day I was due to go into labour came and was nearly gone without even a twinge. I was bound and determined to have this baby! After months of stabbing nightmarish pain in my groin, it had come to the point where I could barely even dress myself without collapsing in tears.
Saturday night: August 20, 2005, Mike and I went on a date to get my mind off the fact that I had yet to go into labour and that I was so miserable. I opted for “Hell’s Kitchen” from East Side Mario’s… I was still trying anything to get this labour going, and I love hot foods, so why not. Up to this point, I tried teas, walking, sex, baths, everything. I remember asking the server to make sure it was extra hot.
I stick to the thought that it seemed to have worked, because at 4:45am I woke up with pretty strong contractions about 8 minutes apart. At 12:15pm I couldn’t take the pain anymore on my own and we made our way to the hospital; but not without a stop at the bank first. I don’t know why, but I encouraged Mike to stop because we need! money for parking.
Who the hell takes the word of a crazy pregnant lady in labour anyways? *ppft*
By the time we arrived, my contractions were 4 minutes apart and lasting for what seemed like EVER!
Once admitted and in triage I was 3cm at about 1pm, and 4cm by 2pm .. seemed to be going alright… I got my epidural with a spinal and after talking to the nurse, we were expecting this baby to arrive by 10pm.
By 4pm I started to feel contractions on my right side, intensifying every time. The anesthesiologist came back and pulled my spinal catheter out a little to see if that would fix it, but they only increased and intensified to the point where only my left thigh left frozen. By 8pm I was having full on contractions; the anesetheologist was conveniently in surgery and would be able to come back for a couple hours.
At this point, I took anything and everything I could to dull the pain: an entire can of nitrous oxide and whatever else they would feed me. Left to labour from 4cm to 8cm with no (strong enough) medication I cursed those women who did this all on their own. Yes! You! I cursed you! Most of this time was a blur, except I do remember offering my nurse jube jubes.
The anesthesiologist arrived around 10:30pm to attempt my epidural again; I was contemplating doing the last 2cm natural since I had come so far, but I needed sleep so badly or there was no way I would of had the strength to push at all. Shortly after the second epidural was administered, my contractions slowed; trying to restart my labour, I was then given Pitocin. Then, 5am I was 10cm and ready to start pushing, but Carter had other plans, he was not wanting to come out.
His heart rate and my blood pressure increased to the point where a c-section was eminent; but I refused. After all that hard work, I didn’t want to go out like that, since I’ve never had major surgery, it freaked the shit out of me .
Finally, he arrived; a little bruised and not breathing since his cord was wrapped twice around his neck. One of the freakiest moments of my life when I heard the nurse yell “We need help!” since he was unresponsive.
But you’d never know that now!
Carter - My Little Dude
August 22, 2005 @ 8:01am
9lbs, 6oz
Even though this is what he’s like most day, I love him to bits!
Tell me, why does bacon grease have to sizzle, pop and be down right relentless in its battle to afflict pain on people? I am not a big bacon eater; I typically don’t enjoy it unless it’s for a juicy and ever so scrumptious BLT (bacon lettuce and tomato sandwich people!), so cooking it has to be one of my least favourite tasks.
The shear stinging pain of bacon fat violently spurting from the pan, on to my foot causing me to feel shards of pain run through my nerves and stinging my knee caps is just about as much fun as I can handle.
Bacon and I don’t see eye to eye.
Plus, I hate to cook. I’m too impatient.
There I said it. I don’t like to cook.
That’s why I could never be a 50’s housewife.
Well, unless it was her. Cuz dude, I can totally do that.
The nights Mike works late I don’t cook and it drives him bat shit crazy. Carter and I will have sandwiches or left overs, but I won’t get all extravagant and well, put anything in the oven. I *may* boil water for Kraft Dinner, but that’s as far as it goes.
That would mean, that yes.
Mike is more domesticated then I.
I like to remind him once and a while; especially when after he’s cooking my dinner.
I think Carter’s a lot like me. He’s absolutely content to have a bowl of cereal for dinner.
It doesn’t happen that often people. I do feed him real food. But, how could I deny him such happiness?
And, it’s good for him!
Dude! Look at that! Fiber and everything! *ahem* You so know I’m a good mom, right?
Growing up, I had my husband, his career, our house, our cars, our children’s names and everything! picked out. I knew exactly what my children were going to look like (me of course!) I knew I would have a live-in nanny and I would work full time (so, partially right). All while sleeping around behind my husband’s back with Ken (yes, Barbie’s Ken) because he worked such grueling hours trying to maintain my wickedly awesome lifestyle. Apparently cheating is a way of life. Who knew?
I would lay down The Law and I would be Boss. I would be listened to, back talk and lying would not be tolerated and I would be feared. Ha! If the children became unbearable, well… I would simply pass them to the nanny and tell her that I had to get out of the house and go have a drink with my friends.
[So instead I ditch the husband with an unruly toddler and head to my friend's to bitch and moancompare notes gush about how grateful we are for such understanding husbands. ]
So far, everything seems to be heading uncontrollably downhill and that kid is propped up on my back using my hair as the reigns.
Thirteen Things I Never Thought I’d Let My Child Do
1. Watch TV - Okay so, only partially true. I never thought I’d let him watch as much TV as he does.
2. I never thought I’d let him have more shows saved on the DVR then I have. That’s happened as well. He’s got nearly 45% of the damn thing.
3. Eat chips. Now he doesn’t eat them that often, but yes.. he has chips.
4. Have McDonald’s until he was at least five. Nope. Done that too.
5. Eat cereal for dinner. But he does. It’s high in fiber though, so it’s okay, right?
6. Watch TV in the car. That was before I realized how hard it actually is to concentrate on the road with a whining/crying toddler in the back.
7. Hug random strangers in WalMart. But apparently he really fancies the East Indian lady we happen to run into often in the baby section. Weird.
8. Stay up late. But sometimes you just have to weigh the positives and negatives. I mean, Grandma put up with the cranky evening and we can sleep in? Bonus!
9. Try pop or coffee until he was much older, and well… he’s done both - not by my choice though. His father doesn’t seem to think it’s as big a deal as I do.
10. Go to bed without brushing. Meh. He’s got another set of teeth comin’ in. We can try better with those, right?
11. Sleep in my bed. Ya, that’s right. I love sleep too much to share my space with anyone. But I have. Numerous times. Too many times. *sigh*
12. Wear clothes with Dinsey characters, Dora, Diego or Pooh Bear. Done, done and done. *gag*
13. Use a bottle and a pacifier until he was two. But we’re coming up on two nice and quickly and I don’t see him relinquishing them any. time. soon.
And! Remember how I went on about Carter calling Mike Mommy or Mike? Ya, he still does. But it’s normally just Mike. No matter how many times we correct him, Mike is still Mike. I was able to finally get him on video. A little. He gets performance anxiety when he’s on camera (not really, he likes to watch the LCD on the back of the camera instead).
** To those reading in Technorati, I’m sorry! You’re going to have to re-join. I changed my account and lost all the readers.
We spent Sunday at the zoo with my dear friend MarthafreakinStewart and her family. Preparing for the worst, I armed myself with plenty of snacks and items of distraction, expecting melt downs and stroller fights to earmark Carter’s first ever trip to the zoo. With my camera in hand, I was hoping to catch some of his finer childhood moments (read: biggest and best meltdowns to share on my blog).
One thing about my husband you should know: should we head out of town for a long weekend somewhere, he will pack minimally. He will neglect to even think of some important items - like, say, DIAPERS! - and brush it off like it was my fault. But! when we go for a day trip somewhere? That man will have everything packed, re-packed, and bring just about everything we friggin’ own! That stroller was weighed down with extra clothes, swimming gear, cameras (which I forgot to charge the battery in my Sony and didn’t hear the end of the entire day. But! Luckily had brought along the other camera.), he also carried a backpack full of food!
With everything but the kitchen sink, we arrived right at opening in hopes of missing the huge crowd of people, because really, who in their right minds gets up at 6:30am on a Sunday morning to get to the zoo before the crowd except us)?
Well, apparently half of Toronto had the same plan; okay, over exaggeration.. but there were a lot of people with the same idea. By the time we had the entire stroller packed up and headed into the park, there was all ready a considerably large crowd ahead of us. And the worst part, for me, about the zoo is the shuffling in packs to each exhibit and fighting for space to get a glimpse of the sleeping/hiding animals. Luckily, strollers gave us the ability to squeeze the boys up to the glass and with their adorable chatter about the animals, the evil glares quickly changed to *awwww, so cute* looks.
They started off great with lots of interest in the animals. Carter would chatter at every exhibit, calling just about everything with hair and a tail “Himonkey!” and anything that was large and hairless was a “Ahippo!” and MarthafreakinStewart’s little guy was just unsure about anything that moved quickly and wasn’t behind glass (rightfully so if you ask me) but their enthusiasm quickly diminished as the exhibits got further and further apart and the animals moved less and less.
By 11:00 (2 hours into the day) we had our first meltdown. At the giraffe exhibit, the lack of stimulation was getting to Carter; he’d been to about 4 exhibits where nothing was moving or even visible to most (especially a toddler who can’t see an alligator that’s right in front of his nose unless it’s moving) and he lost it (to give him a little credit, I don’t think the suntan lotion he rubbed in his eyes helped the situation).
After stopping for lunch (which was food from the park, NOT the 400 sandwiches that Mike insisted on making) and re-grouping we tried for round two, and at this point I think both boys were wondering: Are they fuckin’ mad? We’re still going to try and see these boring sleeping animals? until we got the meerkats who were the life of the entire zoo; I swear, these little buggers had those boys captivated for what could have been the remainder of the day should we let them (and maybe should have).
Shortly after the meerkats, it was evident we had sapped out every last drop of their interest because dammit! we didn’t drive all this way for nothing! so we headed to the splash pad for a break and to cool down.
As we hiked up a huge hill, trying to find our way back to the front of the park, where the splash pad was located, we got lost. Actually, scratch that. The boys got us lost because they refused to listen to girls bitchinginsisting suggesting that we follow the sign directing us to the exit. I can’t think of anything better (worse) then sitting in the hot sun with upset toddlers, debating with two men that we’ve gone the wrong direction, while they retrace our steps on the picture map provided by the park. Good times.
Rejuvenated, refreshed and ready to go after splashing around in freezing cold water, we tried one more exhibit - the Dinosaurs Alive! - which if you ask me, totally sucked. Rubber dinosaurs that move by the push of a button, whooo-fuckin’-hoo. Boooor-ing.
After all the hype in line about how the life like dinosaurs may scare the shit out of the younger guests, I was hoping for a least a significant meltdown, some screaming and freakin’ out. Some action! But no. Nothing.
The most action all day ended up being Carter getting bit by an overzealous and anxious Canadian goose trying to take Carter’s cookie right out of his hand. The bugger came right up to him in his stroller and ripped it out of his hand! I was in shock, I didn’t even know what to do. Since they’re protected animals I couldn’t haul off and kick it (with people around); Mike decided that spraying water at it might deter it from coming closer again. I don’t think he took into account the fact that, um… it’s a GOOSE and they live in the water. *shakes head* So yelling and stomping his feet while chasing it only proved to the rest of the park what I’ve known all along, he’s fucked in the head.
So, to recap.
Todders + hot sun + sleeping (boring!) animals + hills / stubborn males + strollers stuffed to the gills + biting geese = Fabulous! trip to the zoo!
In conclusion, we survived, the kids are in one piece, we know that anything with hair and a tail is a “Himonkey!” and anything without is a “Hihippo!”, and I can safely say.
Zoos are so fuckin’ overrated.
*Pictures to come once my lazy ass downloads them. Promise!
