Today, I’m a child and my work is play.

I read this on a bulletin board in the hallway of an elementary school this week. Love it and wanted to share. It would be really cute to have in a child's playroom or to make your own book with a verse matched up with a picture of your child playing on each page. It's by Anita Wadley.

Just Playing

When I’m building in the block room, 

Please don’t say I’m JUST Playing. 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play; 

about balance and shapes. 

Who knows, I maybe an architect someday.

When I’m getting all dressed up, 

Setting the table, caring for the babies, 

Don’t get the idea I’m JUST playing. 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I may be a mother or a father someday. 

When you see me up to my elbows in paint, 

Or standing at an easel, or molding and shaping clay, 

Please don’t let me hear you say “she’s JUST playing.” 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I’m expressing myself and being creative. 

I may be an artist or an inventor someday. 

When you see me 

“Reading” to an imaginary audience, 

Please don’t laugh and think I’m JUST playing. 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I may be a teacher someday. 

When you see me combing the bushes for bugs, 

Or packing my pockets with choice things I find, 

Don’t pass it off as JUST play. 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I may be a scientist someday. 

When you see me engrossed in a puzzle, 

Or some plaything at my school, 

Please don’t feel the time is wasted in play 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I’m learning to solve problems and concentrate. 

I may be in business someday. 

When you see me cooking or tasting foods, 

Please don’t think that because I enjoy it, 

It is JUST play.  

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I’m learning to follow directions and see differences. 

I may be a cook someday. 

When you see me learning to skip, hop, run, 

And move my body, 

Please don’t say I’m JUST playing. 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I’m learning how my body works. 

I may be a doctor, nurse or athlete someday. 

When you ask me what I did at school today, 

And I say, “I JUST Played”, 

Please don’t misunderstand me. 

For, you see, I’m learning as I play. 

I’m learning to enjoy and be successful in work. 

I’m preparing for tomorrow. 

Today, I’m a child and my work is play. 

In case of fire...

What would you grab from your burning house before you escaped the flames?

I know I've been writing a lot about priorities lately, and I might turn the page after this "priority post", but it amazes me how my frame of mind has changed once I've finally learned what's really important.

If you had asked me a year ago what would I take, I imagine it would've been more than I could load in the back of the truck. Ah, the furniture! The duvet! My books! All of our records! My camera!....

Tonight, when I was rocking Ryker to sleep I thought about it again. What would I grab right now if the smoke alarm went off? I looked around his room - nothing. I pictured our bedroom - nothing, and I visualized my way down the stairs and through the rest of the house.

This is what I came up with: Me, Ryker, Bryon, the dogs and if we went out the door we usually use I would grab the dog's leashes off the hook on the way out so they couldn't tear around town once we were out.

And... if I had time, the two picture albums off of the mantle and our keepsake chest. But the loss of those things wouldn't be devastating.

Then I thought, I would get all new clothes!

Think about it.
29.9.12

Huge earrings and knee-high boots

I was a kid once, and it wasn't that long ago.

I was at the variety store tonight admiring the girl in front of me all decked out ready for a night on the town paying for a pack of cigarettes and two litre bottle of Coke. Loved her huge earrings and leather boots that came up to her knees. I wondered what she was up to this Friday night. I wanted her to know that I'm cool too. That I could be out too, if I wanted to be.

I waited in line behind her with my bag of chips and dip and single sized bottle of Gingerale. Big night tonight. Big night. Bathed my baby and rocked him to sleep, kissed my husband goodbye before he headed out to his buddy's place and me, here in my PJ's, my Gingerale on ice, chips on the left and dip on the right. Did I mention it's 7:30pm? I was going to rent a movie, but who am I kidding? I'll be in bed at 9.

You know, that's my "cool" these days. I don't feel like I'm missing out, because I'm exactly where I want to be and eager to enjoy tomorrow instead of being tired, hungover and miserable.

Don't let me fool you.
I'm just as keen as the next guy to get out if it's worth the write-off of the next two days.
28.9.12

Baby Daddy

I started this a couple of weeks ago and never finished...

My work week as a reporter and pet sitter isn't the normal 9 to 5-sitting-at-a-desk work week that I sometimes long for - A job where the week ends at 5pm on Friday and you're free until Monday morning enjoying the weekend without the weight of Monday's deadline lingering in the back of your mind. But, this isn't what today's post is about. It's about co-parenting and how grateful I am to share equal responsibility for our child with my hands-on, full-heart-filled-with-love-and-fun husband. 

It's not easy working full time, being a good spouse, running a household and being a parent, but when you're doing it together, it's not all that hellacious. 

Months ago Bryon wondered out loud how he will have the energy when Ryker is older to play catch after school. Well, babe, we've made it this far. How did we give birth (Well, me - which still amazes me and I still think is inhumane.... beautiful... but inhumane), be up in the night with a newborn, keep a constant eye on an infant in constant motion and now both of us are working. Yep, we're pretty much superheroes.

I would seriously be in an insane asylum if I had a husband who referred to the time spent with his child as "babysitting". I called to him yesterday when he was changing Ryker's diaper and goofing off that he is such a good dad. I need to tell him that more often. When Ryker was born I would joke that if I wasn't nursing I could go back to work because he did everything else. 

I'm so grateful that he has been intrigued by our son since the day he was born and not waiting until the day he gets on hockey skates. I'm grateful that Ryker is surrounded by the presence of a mom and a dad in a home that is tearing at the seams with adoration for him.

Enjoying the Small Things

27.9.12

I wish I'd written this, because I LOVE it. I stole this from Kelle Hampton's Blog - Enjoying the Small Things. Wanted to share with my fellow mama friends.

Trying to keep afloat, pickin' and choosin' each day which balls we're going to attempt to keep up in the juggling act while a few fall at our feet, waiting for their turn...

This is how life works though, and when you add it all together--perfect snuggly crafty days, mama dates and family dinners plus busy work days, babysitter nights and "Candyland is going to have to wait" afternoons, it can still equal Really Good Mom...This fact is powerful when you catch yourself comparing your methods and outcomes with other mamas (it's a wash--don't do it). When you see the seems-like-she-does-everything pizzaz of another mom, know that she's enjoying a shining moment among many other kinds of moments, and be happy for her. And when you see a mom who might be losing her cool or maybe arranging her priorities differently than you would, assume that there are other days when things shift and she too enjoys that shining moment of everything-feels-just-right. Amen? Amen. Isn't it nice when we don't have the pressure of figuring out everyone else's life for them?

To Just Be

Talk about getting my priorities in check.

In the past week, I have had no desire to check my email after 5pm nor have I written a To-Do list or would even know what to jot on one if I was going to. I watched TV with my husband all night on Monday and last night I went to bed at 8 just to be cozy and relax and read. I'm able to just 'be'. To live the life that is and not the one, with endless expectation, I think should be.

The bully continues to bully, and I respond with kindness and move on my way.

Like a smoker who quits smoking and finds all of this time on his hands. My anxiety has eased immensely and I'm left with all of this free time and energy that used to be soaked up by unrealistic thoughts and worry that occupied my life.

I have a lot of it. Life has slowed and suddenly there aren't a million things I need to be doing and a million places I needed to be yesterday. What happened to that pile of stuff? It's become irrelevant.

Dinner will be cooked, when it gets cooked and the dishes will be done tomorrow. The clean towels have been in the dryer for three days. I'll get around to it.

Ryker and I have been at the park, the library and for a lot of walks. I rock him to sleep at night, because there is nowhere else I "have" to be.

And I'm happy.
26.9.12

Candy

Have you ever felt like you were floating and drowning at the same time? Like you're dying?

It's been a dark month. Terrifying, really. And I'm going to keep this short, as a wrap up, in hopes that I don't have to write about how I've been feeling lately because I'm not going to feel so hopeless anymore.

The post is titled 'Candy' because I'm eating it. You know, my last resort and I don't feel about it as I thought I would. I feel hopeful. It's all I can do to dig myself up and out of the extreme anxiety that has built a wall too high for me to climb over on my own.

I'll say it again, because I've only realized just how true it is. "It's not what happens in life, it's how we react to it, and my reaction is unwillingly unrealistic. It's confusing to feel so ... so... ?  when you know you have an amazing life. It's relieving to know it's not the few assholes in my life or the little things that go wrong that have a hold on my me. It's my inability to brush it off and keep on going and I can change that and live by my own terms.

I was thrown into a panic attack on Thursday afternoon with an after shock that rumbled through the night and panic peaked again on Friday. It starts with my eyes going out of focus and then feeling the need to lay down because I'm so instantly exhausted. This is when I breathe, try talking myself out of it and distracting my mind, call a crisis centre that tells me to go for a walk. There is no grounding myself and holding my head above the water. The more I could feel I couldn't pull out, the more intense it got. So, I did what any nearly 30-year-old would do. I called mom and dad who raced to my rescue, being there for Ryker when he woke from his nap and taking me to the doctor.

So the end of the week was a nightmare, that lead to a great weekend with my boys.
I can breathe, I feel more calm, present and that my priorities are in check.
23.9.12

Laugh more. 

At yourself, at others and at the situations you find yourself in.

Today, was a good day

I was watching Ryker sleep tonight. Sprawled out in his crib he looks so long. It's impossible to believe, so I don't think too much into it, that he will be 11-months-old tomorrow.

•••
My proactive approach to handling my anxiety left me feeling good. The understanding from a homeopath, specializing in anxiety and depression based on her personal experience, makes me feel less lonely and more hopeful. A lesson on pharmaceutical meds from our nurse educated me on that avenue.

Did I mention Ryker choked again last week? That's what threw me into my second-ever panic attack. The trigger is fear, obviously. Both of those experiences for me were the ultimate - Hitting the extreme end of the stress response, if you want to get technical about it. Yes, I've been reading.

It's not the stressor that determines the response, it's the person's internal reaction. You know the old, "It's not what happens in life, it's how you handle it." The thing is, your system must be prepared to take it. And mine is not. And so I have to train it to be.

In lower level anxiety, before I started to experience panic attacks from real-life fear, anxiety differs from fear, in that while fear is a rational response to a real danger, anxiety usually lacks a clear or realistic cause. This is the explanation of things getting stuck in my mind and becoming something completely unrealistic, and although you know that, you don't have the chemical or strategic tools to stop that.

Your mind is such a powerful tool in determining how you feel and can be used to create powerful positive emotions that give a natural high helping cope with stress. The relaxation from a chemical high (alcohol) is short-lived and leads to more stress to the system.

Wow. I lost control of this post real fast.

Ryker's choking was caused by an ulcer in his throat that is healing. It's really common and the nurse says it looks like he's rounding the end of hand, foot and mouth and disease. Sounds worse than it really is and it's making it's way through daycares and since Ryker puts everything into his mouth...

Anyway... following my post, Our New Home, I read a chapter in the book, Momfidence! by Paula Spencer about the ridiculousness of trying to capture every single moment on camera. She says that if we really want to preserve our children's lives, we're better off taking photos of their playroom floor.

Momfidence...
is asking another parent at the class program to snap a picture for you so you can just enjoy the show. They may take only one shot of your child (compared with one hundred of their own), but one is all you need.

 

I got out of bed last night and did a quick photo shoot of our home, as is.. And thought I would share a few. Layout is a little wild. No patience today to work with it. Yes, that's the bathtub hours after tub time and yes, it likely won't be drained until the morning's shower, or the next tub time if there's no time for a shower.
12.09.12

Consumes me

Part 1 - Today

It was a bad day.

Let me start at the beginning.

I had been hopeful, but a hint that the stigma of me lingers and things haven't changed where I've returned brewed anxiety first thing this morning and I drank it up.

When someone says, "Don't look now, but..." what do you do? You look.

When someone says, "Distract yourself from it," it's impossible to think about anything else other than how anxiety consumes my mind and body... And so, all day, it consumes me. The awareness of it, feeds it... and so it grows.

When something is broken, I want to fix it. When I had my first panic attack just over a week ago (I've had a couple more since, but figured out the trigger and am working on learning how to cope), I booked a doctors appointment right away to get my levels checked. I felt hopeless when I left the doctor's office with a prescription to get some exercise, and the therapist two days later counselled me to go on a date with my husband. Thank you so much. I'm glad that's all it was. (That would be sarcasm).

I wonder, is it not real enough if it hasn't beat me down so hard I'm clawing at someone for help? It makes me sad to think of the level of fear and loneliness others who are worse off than me must feel. Just because I stand tall and talk strong, doesn't mean that sometimes I'm not hanging on for dear life, feeling about to collapse at any given second.

I was told yesterday that it's good I'm so open about it. Well, ya. I'm desperately reaching out, can't you see? I was to find the fix, the cure, the ultimate strategy. I'm not ashamed of it and I can't go on like this.

Because I am more aware of it, I can see it in others. You know that "coincidence" when people come into your life at the right time? Well, because I'm open about it I politely called a stranger out on it and she confessed her mental health sin and has given me some great pointers. The local health store owner, while purchasing supplements I hope will help, gave me a book from her personal library that has helped someone close to her through the same thing. I got an invitation to have homoeopathy take a stab at it and I have more support and understanding from my family - my backbone... All in the last few days.

When it rises, I want to have the strength and knowledge to be able to bury it.

The quick fix. Alcohol. Works great. Another, that I don't know works because it's never been thrown at me, is the candy tossed from the floats at the pharmaceutical parade. My last resort.

Part 2 - Puppets

And this is what I think now...

I wonder, what satisfaction a woman old enough to be my mother gets making someone the same age as her own child cry? I wonder how someone can dedicate their days feeling high and mighty by working to ruin someone, but crouch low when called out on it.

I have a real-living bully. Well, there are a few - There is the master puppeteer who pulls the strings and then there are her marionettes. I thought she had run out of stones to throw, but she's filled her pockets with more.

The thing is, she means shit to me, but the bully beating me from the inside, out gives her power. It's a personal attack and it hurts and because I have no back up, she's going to win and take what I love to do where I love doing it.

I went for a walk (Thanks Doc) and was able to turn the situation around in my mind and thought, one day I will share the story of how I, too, was harassed and look where that got them (I'm playing nice, but relying on karma to kick in any day now) and where I am now. If it wasn't for that awful experience, I wouldn't have moved on to better things.

This is what I think right now...

I'm pissed off that I've spent the last half of my evening writing about her, when I should be with my husband on the couch in front the TV vegging out.

This is what I think most days...

What I really wanna do is drink myself into an oblivion every night.

11.9.12

Our new home

No, we haven't moved, but our house became a home when we brought new life into it.

I was thinking about the winter months when Ryker was a newborn and how cozy it was to just lay on the couch with the curtains closed and the lamp on and the quiet of the three of us just together. And then I was looking around and took notice of the ways our house has become a home.

It's the orange something crusted to the fridge door and the food chunks on the bathtub floor. It's the dog hair, the dirty washcloths across the basement stairs on their way to the wash and the pile of stuff on the other set of stairs on its way up. It's the filthy highchair in the corner of the dining room and the little moccasins on the dining room table. It's the monitor on the kitchen window sill and the dish rack filled with bottle and sippy cup pieces and teething toys. It's the jumperoo in the corner of my office and the baby gate to the living room with all of it's plugged outlets and latched cupboards. It's the chewed books on the shelf and the hard cheerios in the rug and the dried milk on the hardwood. It's the toys and the toys and the toys. It's the spare room occupied by a used crib and used bedding and lived in by a perfect little body breathing softly asleep in it.  It's the fingerprints and the love.
7.9.12

My Husband, thank you

Thank you for growing with me.

Thank you for being supportive.

Thank you for being nice to me when I'm an intolerable bitch.

Thank you for tidying up when you know I feel anxious. 

Thank you for knowing to walk away when I push your buttons 

instead of throwing me through a window.

Thank you for putting me in my place when you've hit your breaking point, and not just walking away.

Thank you for being an amazing father and making me feel like I'm a good mom. 

I'll never forget when Ryker was only weeks old and you broke the silence in his bedroom by saying to me, "You're such a good mom." It was exactly what I needed at that exact moment.

Thank you for asking me how I'm feeling today.

Thank you for saying, "Let's just talk."

Thank you for giving me a home and not a house.

Thank you for security.

Thank you for caring.

Thank you for marrying me. Now we both feel like we are part of something.

I don't give you nearly enough credit and love for the amazing man you are.

My husband, my son's father, my friend.

7.9.12

Back in the game

I knew I'd be back to "normal" in 24 hours.
Ryker's 1st day of daycare was awesome and I punched out my first article this morning.
Excited for all of us.
I'm back in the game, baby. Back in the game.
5.9.12

Daycare

Dear Ryker,

You survived your first day of daycare and with flying colours, just as we knew you would. And, so did mommy and daddy. That we weren't so sure of. 

Teacher Sandy and Teacher Yvonne raved about you and how easily you go with the flow. You ate your snacks and lunch and a couple of cat naps and played at the kitchen set a lot with the pots and pans and opening and closing the fridge door.

 It was so weird when daddy came home for lunch and we just sat alone, but together and talked about the absence of you. I didn't realize that we weren't sure who we were anymore without you.

 Don't tell daddy I told you this, but I think he was a little teary eyed when we dropped you off this morning, although was reassuring me that you would be fine. When he was getting his work boots on after lunch ready to head back to work he said he had already thought about you 100 times today. He was a little worried I could tell, because he mentioned that he forgot to tell the teachers that you can only have one small piece of food at a time because you will put everything into your mouth at once. Don't let me giving daddy a hard time fool you. He is the greatest, really.

 We were both there to pick you up, just like we both dropped you off. You were alone playing at the wooden fridge and chewing on a toy. You turned when you heard my voice and smiled and came crawling over. Your smile didn't say, Thank God you came back for me! And you didn't come to us at any panicked speed. You seemed pretty content - A word we've used to describe you since the day you were born.

 You stood up and just hung there in mid-air (I swear, if you take your first steps at daycare...) until I picked you up and squeezed you. 

We asked you all about your day on the way home and you just looked in the car mirror and smiled. You had a bright pink rubber ball in your mouth that you decided to "borrow" until Thursday and that we didn't notice when we left daycare. You were wearing navy "Dockers-style" shorts with a turquoise, navy and white striped t-shirt and hand-me-down Robeez with hippos that left a red ring around your ankle, but were too long for your feet.

I love you Boo.

4.9.12

Quiet

Dark skies and raining with the faint sound of thunder rolling in the clouds. I'm sitting at my desk with the dogs at my feet and then realized that I was just sitting here, listening... to nothing.

We dropped Ryker off at daycare this morning. His first day. I hope he's okay. If there was any kid that would be, it would be him. I'm sure he's occupied drooling and gnawing on every toy in the place.

When we dropped him off at 7:30, another child was crying and wouldn't stop. Ryker just sat and stared at her while another boy close to his age covered his ears and then started to get upset. I just watched our little man watching his new friends hoping the domino effect didn't land him next.

When we said goodbye and told him to have fun and then headed out, Ryker was coming toward us, but not in a panic or looking upset so we just kept going.

Incidences since Ryker was born have triggered jokes of homeschooling. The day we went to an early years program for a play and Ryker's first real interaction with another child ended with the toddler snatching the toy and yelling, "Mine!". If the mom of the sassy little one wasn't in view I would've snatched the toy right from that mighty two-year-old grasp.
A few months ago a little boy asked me if Ryker was a girl or a boy and then asked me his name. When I told him Ryker's last name, the kid said, "That's not a real name". That was the day I almost climbed a playground fence and knocked out a six-year-old. I am, of course, (half) joking about this, but I've been nervous in the months leading up to this moment....
Slowing when we pass the daycare playground on a walk and scouting out the teachers and safety of the play equipment. Reviewing the forms over and over, rewriting his daily routine over and over and over and over and fretting about whether I should bring in the Canada's Food Guide and ask where on it I can find chicken fingers and fish sticks that are served.

I left Ryker this morning feeling like I couldn't say what I needed to say to feel assured they would meet his needs. Did they hear me say he likes 'blankie' when he's napping? Did they see me put it into his cupboard. I don't think she heard my answer when she asked if Ryker had eaten breakfast yet. I gave her his bottle, but where did she put it? How will she remember it's his or know when he will want it?

I can only sigh at today - The first time I have to let go of control and leave him in the hands of people that don't love him like we do. For the first time, he's not the centre of the universe. This is good for him and this is good for us.

I wonder what he's doing right now.
4.9.12

Panic

I've figured out 'Whatever it is...'.

The cause of my week's shutdown - My dear friend anxiety x 100.

I realized this Sunday when I experienced my first ever panic attack that, although I'd been playing it cool, it's apparent I wasn't so about the change to come. It had been a rough week kick started by Ryker's choking and in the following days crept the reality of going back to work and Ryker starting daycare - Both tomorrow.

I laid down for a rest because I haven't been sleeping well and then couldn't catch my breath. I couldn't tell if my heart was racing or if it had slowed and then I felt pain each time I exhaled. I couldn't be having a heart attack, a stroke? At age 29? Should I go to emergency or am I being dramatic? The more I thought and focused on what was going on, the worse it got.

Breathe. Just breathe. Relax. Breathe. I know this. But not this time. This time is had taken over my entire body and it was so strong. I couldn't break it.

Too scared to get up and tell my husband what was going on, I guess because I wasn't really sure and I was seriously terrified. My body was numb and I felt light and dizzy and my breath didn't return naturally for hours and hours.

It may be something physically unbalanced that has caused my anxiety to step it up a good few notches or my life unbalanced at this moment that has escalated it to this extreme.

By this time tomorrow after my first editorial meeting and picking Ryker up from daycare, I know I'll be back to "normal" again, and my next post will be about how excited I really am for the change. Haven't I been all along?

Breathe.
3.9.12

September Sunday swinging

This photo, I think, captures this next stage of our lives as a family.
Enjoying this day and swinging into big change.
Let's do that, just swing with it.
2.9.12

Whatever it is...

I have three posts started and nothing finished because I don't know which direction to go and I'm irritable and exhausted and not sure why. I'm going to wrap them all into one that's likely not going to make any sense and bore the hell out of you, but maybe I can make some sense of it for myself, while wasting the next ten minutes of your life.

A lot is happening. First off, I want to kill my husband who is amazing. I'm doing that annoying woman thing when you just want your husband to read your mind, and even if he could, it's hard when I'm not sure what is going on in there. So I ignore him. I need space. Let me be. Sort it out. Fuck off.

Secondly, Ryker begins his first day of daycare on Tuesday.

Thirdly, I have my first editorial meeting that same day. Back to work.

I crept into this next stage with excitement, eager for change, excited for Ryker to experience daycare and motivated to get back to reporting, especially into my new position as freelance/part-time reporter for the newspaper that I was full-time editor and reporter for before I left on maternity leave. Ideal. Ryker is in daycare three days a week, I write and walk dogs the other days and fight to find balance.

I was thinking of the change as a transition and not an end of something. Feeling fine. Now I am stressed, anxious and panicked. I feel like everything is racing. How did I get to this spot so fast?

It's been a hard week. I'm insanely irritable and feeling burnt out. I've drifted from the column I'm trying to write for the next edition of the paper introducing myself back into the game, and when you drift... It means you've hit a block. I started it four days ago. And here I am, back to my blog where I write a few lines but never publish and then walk away. I just want to be with Ryker all of the time. Maybe I should have done that more while I've been "off" with him. Whatever that means as life never did slow down since I don't know how to relax.

It may be that I'm struggling to find out who I will be in all of this, or am not sure who I've become or who I go back to work as. Maybe worried about not being able to balance everything or terrified of Ryker being in the care of other people all day, or sad that the time home with him is already up, or... Cant' make sense of it, whatever it is.

Trying to enjoy this long last weekend of summer before life stirs up.
1.9.12