Who needs birth control reminders…

…when you have a toddler who has regular temper tantrums.

Seriously. That’s reminder enough for me to take my daily dose.

It seems we have entered the phase of temper tantrums full force. It has taken a toll on me today. One minute she’s the cutest, sweetest kid you’ve ever seen in your life (and I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother and I’m biased…ok maybe a little, but she’s completely adorable!). Then, faster than you can blink, she’s gone all Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde on your ass and it’s like… “Whose kid is this!?!?!”

Maybe if I can teach her to do it on command, she could make herself a few bucks.

Maybe if I can teach her to do it on command, she could make herself a few bucks.

For example, today she was playing with her little plastic kitten. She had a stretchy bracelet that she was attempting to put around it’s neck like a necklace. She was standing there trying, unsuccessfully for many minutes, and becoming visibly increasingly frustrated. So I finally spoke up.

Me: “Hey L, would you like Mama to help?”

L: Running over enthusiastically with a smile on her face. Shakes head yes, and hands both over to me.

I put the bracelet on the cat’s neck like a necklace and go to hand it back to her.

She smiles, reaches out for it, takes it in her hands and then throws it across the length of the room while simultaneously dropping herself to the floor. Let the screaming, kicking, and full body throws of unbalanced emotions begin.

Oh crap. Remind me to keep her away from my car.

Oh crap. Remind me to keep her away from my car.

I’m meanwhile, just sitting there watching in amazement at the many ways my daughter can contort her body. I mean, I don’t want to give in and give her attention as it will just be negative reinforcement for her behaviour.

So I sat back and watched the show. When she realized that nobody was really paying her any attention she finally sat up and looked at me. This conversation ensued:

Me: “Are you finished?”

L: Crossed arms, hung head, and a pout. No words.

Me: “If you’re finished, please stand up and go pick up your cat.”

I know this is bound to go on for years to come. Thankfully my fiance came home tonight with a chocolate bar weighing 400g’s, and as long as my forearm. I’m going to need it!

I’m not quite sure how else to handle it really. This is a new phase. Do any of you have any suggestions on how to handle the meltdowns and make them less frequent?

(I’ve got the chocolate and wine handled, but that’s more for me after she’s gone to bed).


“Sweetie, please don’t touch my boobs in public.”

Success Kid

The time has come. My daughter is obsessed with my boobs.

She’s learned all of her body parts and can identify them on command. But as of today, she seems to be enamoured by my breasts.

It started this morning when I was buckling her into her car seat. As I was leaning in to make sure her belt was tight enough, she touched my right boob. At least by going for the right one, she went for the one that still has some oomph left and isn’t deflated and flaccid after my breastfeeding days. (On a side note, did you know flaccid was spelled with a double “c”? I’m usually quite good at spelling, but I actually was taken back when my typed “flacid” was shown as spelled incorrectly. Learn something new every day!). She used one little finger, touched it, looked up at me and said “That?”. Fair enough. I’m fairly well endowed, so it’s not something I can hide or camouflage easily. All I could think was that it was best to be matter of fact about it.

Me: “That’s Mummy’s boob”.

L: (pointing again) “That?” – I guess she’s looking for confirmation. We learned her other body parts by repeating.

Me: “It’s a boob sweetie”.

I didn’t think much more of it, got into the front of my car and drove her to my Mother’s for the day. At my mothers, she did the same thing when I was in my Mom’s kitchen. She again, touched my boob and said “That?”. I don’t think there’s a point in not telling her what it is, so I answered again. “It’s a boob”.

I don’t know if she obsessed upon it for the remainder of the day while I was at work. However, after work, while shopping for a new computer monitor (Yay! I can actually see what I’m typing now – our old monitor was shite!), she reached up from the shopping cart. I had a feeling what was going to happen, but I had her half-eaten banana in one hand, and my purse in the other, while trying to push the cart. She didn’t just point this time. She took advantage of my full hands, and full on grabbed. Actually, she didn’t even stop at a grab. She “petted” my boob and said “Oooohh!”.


Oh for God’s sake. You haven’t been breastfed or seen a boob since we stopped breastfeeding, and that was 15 months ago. Why all of a sudden are you caressing me in public!

Queue me dropping my purse on the ground, shoving the peeled banana inside (yeah that was fun to clean off of my wallet later), and trying to distract her as quickly as possible. What’s nearby? My fiance is looking at electronics, and there’s some DVD’s – quick! “Here L, look! It’s Strawberry Shortcake!”.

Success found in pink, cartoony, animated goodness.

It’s not that I am ashamed of my breasts, or don’t understand that curiosity is a natural thing. I was just taken so off guard by the sudden caressing, with the “Oooooh!” and the people staring at me.

I wonder how long this phase is going to last…




Motherhood, bullying, and “being pretty”.

I am raising a daughter. A daughter who, without being taught or prompted, has turned into the girliest girl I know. It seems to come naturally to her, and has left me to think – should I be worried?

Before I get started, let me give you a few examples. Keep in mind, she’s not even quite 2 years old yet, and won’t be until October.

– When I get her dressed in the morning, she will run over to the full length mirror and check herself out. She will pose, turn from side to side, and say “Ooooh”. I have never taught her this, nor do I “Ooooh” at my own image in the mirror. Usually I barely have time to get myself ready at all and am lucky if I catch a sideways glance at myself as I’m walking out the door.

– On the very few rare occasions I actually decide to put on makeup for work, she takes notice. She demands that I kiss the top of her hand and leave her with “kissy lips” for the day. She stares at that kiss, makes the “mwah” sound, and kisses the kiss for hours.

– She is obsessed with all things pretty. Necklaces, earrings, purses, scarves, accessories.

– She twirls and spins, and makes her stuffies give each other kisses.

These are just a few examples. While they may not be in themselves something to worry about, I do worry that at such a young age, she seems to be enamoured by them. I wish her to be able to focus on more than just “pretty things” as she grows up.

Looking back to my own childhood (from what I can remember) I feel as thought I was a pretty good mix. While I thrived at more girly activities (dance in particular), I was also one who had fun out playing in the dirt with the boys, playing with tonka trucks, and had more male friends than female for many of my school day years. I found that a lot of females while I was growing up were so catty, and too obsessed with the superficial aspects of life, and not things with substance.

The thought of raising a daughter in today’s day and age terrifies me. News reports are rampant lately, with stories of teenage girls who ended up victims of gang rapes, and cyber bullying. Girls who drink too much in order to “fit in” and then pass out and are taken advantage of by groups of boys who are no longer taught in school that “no means no”, and that a girl who is passed out is not compliant. That’s right. They are no longer taught this in school. When I went to school, sex ed and learning about what constitutes rape was taught. These days, it is out of the curriculum because some parents think it is inappropriate.

Is it more appropriate for our kids to be participating in unsafe situations because you were too uncomfortable with them being taught facts? If you’re not going to be active in teaching them as their parent what is right, what is wrong, and how to stand up for themselves and others, who will? Nobody, if you’ve gotten it out of school curriculum.

Too many of our kids are committing suicide due to bullying. And I get it. It seems there is no way out. I myself was bullied horribly from grades 6-9. It was awful, and I dreaded waking up every day to go to school. Dreaded it. I can’t tell you how many times I faked being sick, or told the gym teacher I wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t participate to save the humiliation of being the only girl nobody wanted to be partnered with – simply because one “popular girl” decided I wasn’t cool anymore.


(photo from Chatelaine.com)

The only thing that got me through, was dancing. It was my outlet, and the friends I had there were my saviours. Thankfully, I had that outlet and made it to High School, because it all turned around there, and I have made friends that have lasted a lifetime.

But what about those kids who don’t have that outlet? That safe zone, and those friends? These days it is hard to escape bullying when the school bell rings, because the internet follows you home. Kids these days are cruel. Much more cruel than they were when I was young.


(photo from http://www.sidedooryk.com/cyber-bullying-by-james-fox/)

What terrifies me, is how much value my daughter already seems to place in “pretty”. What may happen to her down the road if people keep saying to her “Oh you’re so pretty” and not “Oh you are so smart, and valuable”. What may happen to her if some bully down the road makes her feel so badly about her appearance, and she’s left feeling she’s got nothing else to fall back on. What may happen to her if she feels the only way to be pretty and popular is to drink too much and pass out with people who aren’t taught right from wrong?

My job as a mother is going to be a hard one. I must teach her the lessons that are no longer considered important enough to be taught in school. I must teach her that although she now knows right from wrong, and that “no means no”, not all people have been taught the same. I must teach her that if she decides to go against what I have taught her and drink alcohol, to NEVER leave her drink unattended, and to always know she can call me at any hour and from any location, and I will always come and pick her up. I will never get mad at her for calling me late, and will always be proud of her for phoning me, rather than getting in the car with a drunk driver.

I must teach her that “pretty” doesn’t last forever, and while she is gorgeous, there is more to life than that. I must teach her the value of her intelligence, her creativity, and her talents. Be an example in her life, and not obsess over my body – which as any Mama who is post-birth knows, is not an easy feat.

Above all else, I must try to establish the type of relationship with her that is open. One where she feels comfortable and safe to talk to me about anything. Where she doesn’t feel judged. I feel this will be the hardest one of all, and am already anxious about how I will manage to do it. I’ve been a teenage girl. I know that usually, the last person you want to talk to is your mother. I hope that it won’t be the case with my daughter.

All these thoughts and anxieties, and she’s not even two. But this is how my brain works, and what goes through my head.

If I don’t start now, it might be too late.


Barbie in “real” size. My thoughts.


Have you seen this picture floating around Facebook recently? It seems every second person on my friend list is posting it lately, and I must say it’s brought a few thoughts to my mind. Some serious, some not, and some I wouldn’t have had before I was the mother of a daughter.

So here goes:

1) Hells yeah, Barbie finally has some booty! I mean, I could be wrong on this, but most men like a bit of junk in the trunk. At least most men I’ve spoken to anyway. Most women, have a bit of junk in their trunk. Some women have no butt, true, but most do. There’s nothing wrong with a little booty. Heck, isn’t that why “Bootylicious” was officially added to the dictionary?

2) From the side, looks great! From the front… something is off? Oh wait. I don’t know about you women, but I DO have a neck. I get that Barbie’s is too long (and thin). I see that you’ve made the neck a more realistic girth. But I am pretty sure I have more space between my shoulders and ears than that.

3) Sweet, you’ve given her some thighs! Would be great if they touched though. Just saying. I mean I know we all think thighs shouldn’t touch, but let’s be realistic. They do. They rub together. I think that’s part of a womanly figure myself.

4) I played with Barbie growing up, and I don’t remember ever thinking to myself “OMG I have to have THIS body when I grow up!”. Not once actually. I do remember saying “Mom, can my next Barbie have brown hair like me?”, and thinking “I wonder if Mom will find out if I just cut off a little bit of her hair”. You know you did it too. Half the fun of Barbie’s long hair was chopping it all off!

5) Do I think some people can be affected by the original Barbie’s body image? Sure. But I think those people likely had other poor influences as well though, and likely not parents who were active in teaching them about healthy body images, what’s realistic, etc. Just my opinion. I may get flack for it, but Barbie isn’t the only reason people have poor self-esteem and body image issues.

6) I’d rather my kid play with a Barbie than one of those Bratz dolls. Have you seen them?


Could they dress them any trashier and put any more skanky styled make-up caked on their face? I think they’re a worse influence than Barbie is. At least with Barbie, she has been a veterinarian, a teacher, a doctor, a pilot, etc. Those Bratz dolls are just teens who put value in nothing except slutty clothes and faces painted up like clowns. Exactly what I want my daughter to be (insert eye roll here). Whatever happened to Skipper? At least she was spunky and athletic!

I think it’s great that someone out there has made this new Barbie, but we still have a long way to go. Women come in all different shapes, sizes, colors and ethnicities. I get that it would probably cost Mattel a great deal of money to have many different sized and shaped molds to make so many different kinds of Barbie. But imagine the effect it could have on our young girls? They could finally get a Barbie that really looks like them, their Mom, their best friend, their teacher, or a multitude of women who are positive influences in their lives. The women who they already see as beautiful in their eyes, until society tells them otherwise.

What do you think of the new “real” Barbie that was prototyped here? Do you think Barbie’s body really holds as much weight on a child’s self-image as critics say it does?


“Will you ever say Mama? No? Do you hate me?”

My sweet little L is 20 months old.

At 9 months old, she said “Dada” for the first time. She loved saying Dada, all the time. Still does. We tried from that point on to get her to say “Mama”. She’s stubborn that one, and a little bit mean. Our conversations would go like this:

Me: “L – who is that?” (pointing at her Dad)

L: “Dada!!!!!” – with so much enthusiasm you’d think she just won the Stanley Cup.

C (fiance): “L – who is that? (pointing at me).

L: (A big devilish grin) – shakes her head “no”.

Fast forward a little bit, and they slightly changed.

Me: “L, who is that?”

L: “Dada”

Me: “What does a _______ say?” (Insert cow, dog, cat, monkey, frog, snake, duck, horse, bird, lion, etc. – she knows them all!)

L: She would answer any of the above correctly and with enthusiasm.

Me: “L, can you say Mama?”

L: Looks at me, devilish grin, and says “Dada”.

Uggh. I mean seriously what does a Mom have to do to get a “Mama” in this house? I feed you, bathe you, read to you, play with you, change your poopy diapers, etc. (Granted, Dad does those things too, but come on!). Then that little sly grin and saying Dada. It’s like she knew it was slowly breaking my heart that from ages 9 months to 20 months (that’s a whole damn 11 months!) I kept longing to hear that word, and she thought it was hilarious that I was getting depressed about it. She would actually laugh after saying “Dada” and seeing my face. What a nice girl I have.

I am pleased to say though, that Sunday night, after 11 months of heartbreak, my daughter said “Mama”. I was having the worst day. Just all around awful, but not worth getting into details over. So I’m lying on the couch just counting down the minutes until bedtime, when she’s trying to get my attention. I’m so out of it (not due to a fault of my own) so I’m only half paying attention. Then I hear it…. “Mama!!!”.

She didn’t just say it – she shrieked it. With a smile, and a running jumping hug, and a cuddle with an “Awww” attached to it.

The girl who was breaking my heart for 11 months, just made my entire life with one word.

Now she won’t stop saying it.


I might regret longing for this down the road.


“Seriously?! How did you even know how to do that?!”

In our dining room, we have a small, apartment sized deep freeze. We got it to have on hand when L was younger. It gave us more space for storing breast milk and the pureed baby food cubes she ate when she was much younger.

Last night we went grocery shopping. When we got home we put everything away, including the 2L of cookies and cream ice cream that I’d given into buying. It was on sale! (Plus, I have absolutely no impulse control, so ice cream is always welcome in my home).

About 3 hours after grocery shopping was finished, I got myself a waffle cone, opened up the freezer and took out the ice cream. It still felt cool when I opened the lid, so I thought nothing of it until the scoop hit the ice cream.

“Hey, C (fiance) – why the hell is our ice cream like soup?”


“Our ice cream. It’s effing soupy!”

I’m standing by the freezer trying to figure this out, then little L comes over and clues me in. She’s got her alphabet magnets pasted all over the front of our freezer, and down at the very bottom is a temperature dial. You turn that, and the freezer will get colder, or turn off completely depending on which way you turn it. It is this model, so you can see where the dial is at a convenient toddler play level (bottom right):


She is playing with her letters while I’m trying to sort it out and then says “That!”. I look down and she’s playing with the dial. I notice it is in the “off” position.

Fuuuuuu…… Ok calm down. It couldn’t have been off for that long, right?

So we’re now desperately checking all of our frozen meats, vegetables, etc. to see if they’ve gone past the point of no return.

Thankfully, I think we’re ok.

Lesson learned. Time to put some duct tape over that dial, and for mom to bust out the hidden emergency chocolate.


To us, the (im)perfect Moms.


This photo, I found circulating on Pinterest made me realize that I’m not alone in feeling as though I can’t live up to the impossible standards being flaunted around on the internet.

Becoming a mother has been, without any doubt or hesitation, the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. My little L lights up my entire world. She is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my greatest accomplishment in life.

Being a Mom, however, comes with a whole host of challenges. The biggest ones being the standards we hold ourselves to.

Who can blame us, really? People don’t talk about their challenges, their failures, their breakdowns, or the shortcuts they take. All we hear is how wonderful life is, how perfect their kids are, etc. So when we fall, we feel like failures.

Guess what ladies? PERFECTION IS BORING!

I’ve come to terms with being an (im)perfect Mom.

Things in my life that are (im)perfect, or I do (im)perfectly, and don’t have any shame in include:

– I buy frozen pancakes made lovingly by Aunt Jemima. Who am I kidding, she probably makes them better than I could. The time I save in the morning is crucial to my sanity. Besides, I make sure I get the ones that are whole grain.

-I buy pre-cooked roasted chickens at the grocery store. I don’t have time to roast a damn chicken by myself after work and still get my kid fed and to bed on time.

-Sometimes, rarely,  a Happy Meal makes a Happy Mom.

-Some nights, when I have no idea what I’m going to feed myself, little L gets “toddler finger food surprise” for dinner – usually consisting of some chickpeas, cut up cheese, some grapes, crackers, apples, etc. Basically a bunch of random finger foods thrown together. She loves it, it’s quick, and I make sure she’s got a bit of everything (protein, fruit, veg, etc.). Win-win for a tired Mom who doesn’t want to cook that night! Woot!

– I don’t pre-plan my meals a week in advance, and I shop on the fly. Pre-planning everything would take time and effort. Both things I wish I had more of, but I don’t.

– My kid does not get a bath every single night. Mostly because she has sensitive skin and bathing every night can dry her out. So every 2-3 nights works best for her. Do I secretly like that it can’t be an every night routine? Hell yes!

– I don’t make my own baby wipes, baby butt cream, peanut butter, Christmas cards/wrapping paper. I don’t make my own mosquito/bug repellant or know all of the uses of every essential oil for home remedies. Do I wish I were more like Martha Stewart? OMG Yes. Am I ever going to be? Probably not. I’m all about convenience and saving time. Making all that shit doesn’t seem like it would give me any more time, just take precious time away to make shit that I can buy at a store with a lot less effort.

– I don’t keep my cool 100% of the time. I let my emotions get a hold of me. I raise my voice sometimes, and catch myself. Then I feel horrible and guilty. I work all day and don’t have much time with sweet L, so I try to make the time I have with her happy and fun. Sometimes though, I’m not a fun Mom.

– Sometimes I cry for no reason (or for ALL of the reasons – all of the reasons you can’t think of or verbalize at the time because you’re too focused on how you’re crying and don’t want to be that Mom who breaks down and cries). Superwoman, I am not. Wonderwoman, I wish I were. But who doesn’t want this kind of confidence?


– My sweatpants/Yoga pants are my go to attire. (Who am I kidding, I actually call them my “Fat” pants.). The Fat pants are spoken about lovingly by me. As in “Ohhhh yeah, home from work! Time to put on my fat pants!”. I don’t dress nice enough for my man. But sometimes (ok almost all of the time), comfort wins. I’m probably never going to be the mom who dolls herself up in her fanciest lingerie, face full of makeup, and perfectly done hair every day. If I manage to shower every day, I’m taking it as a win.

Am I perfect? Far from it. Do I wish I were better at things? All the time. Do I hold myself to standards that are too high? Most likely. We all tend to.

So this is going to be my conscious effort from now on. To embrace my imperfections. To know  they don’t make me a bad Mom. To know that even if other Mom’s aren’t saying it or talking about it, we all have our days, we all have our limitations, but we all have our strengths. We need to focus more on the strengths, and less on the comparisons to others.

Being (im)perfect isn’t so bad.





For the love of your kids – cut open your juice boxes!

This happened to me a few months ago, but I didn’t have a blog then so I’m posting about it now. Please feel free to share or re-blog to spread the word!

Juice boxes. A lot of Moms and Dads buy them. They are super convenient for when you’re on the go. Just take that straw, jab it in the little tinfoil perforation area, hand it over and you’ve got a happy kid. A happy kid, yes, but potentially a sick one.

I am lucky enough that my mother watches little L every day while I work. We do the usual routine – I bring her to Gramma’s, we get a snack ready together, give a big hug and a kiss goodbye and I’m off to work.

It was just a regular Monday, so we arrived at Gramma’s. We started getting the snack ready. We had one juice box left out of a five pack. At the time it was well within the expiration date (this happened months ago, remember). My mom said “You know, she’s been on such a juice kick lately and isn’t getting as much water as she should. Maybe we should cut that box open, pour it into a sippy cup and dilute it with water?”. Sounded like a good plan to me, so I cut open the corner and poured it out.



What poured out was a putrid mix of sludgey swamp water. There was a mold mat in the bottom that had congealed to the shape of the square juice box. It was beyond rancid.


It was the last box out of a five-pack. How the hell do I not know the others weren’t like this?
What if I was like any other person out there who just pierces the box and let’s their kid drink it. How sick would she be right now?

I called the company and lost it. I called the Canadian Food Inspection Agency as well. They picked up the box, the “specimen” (because who the hell on their right minds could call it juice at that point?” and they started their investigation.

I should say, that the manufacturer (Oasis juice) was just as horrified as I was. They were beyond cooperative, and were glad that I reported it to the Food Inspection Agency.

Apparently this can only happen if air is exposed to the juice. This could be in the manufacturing process. It could be during transport if it is bumped microscopically. It could have been in the grocery store itself if it were mishandled. As soon as the mold mat forms, it “plugs” up the microscopic hole and you don’t notice a leak.

So let this be my lesson for the day – stick to clear bottles that allow you to actually see the product. For the love of God, please cut open your juice boxes from now on!

You just never do know, and your kids health is not worth the convenience.


Top 5 Strangest/Most Unnecessary Baby Products

Do you ever look at some products out there and have a serious “Oh my God, who would actually buy this?” moment? I do all the time, but I am pretty big on only buying things that I deem actually necessary.

So after perusing the internet tonight (baby L is asleep and my fiance is setting up a PS3 so I actually had some time to play on the net) I found some products that I just had to comment on. Some made me laugh, some made me slap my hand to my forehead in disbelief.

Would love to hear your opinions!

So here we go – My top 5 strangest, most unnecessary baby products of all time!

1) Baby Bangs (www.babybangs.com)


Seriously – WTF.

I mean my little girl was bald for her first 9 months, but it’s a cute baby bald. I never felt the need to Donald Trump her and give her an obviously fake toupee! Who actually looks at her baby and says “I mean she’s kinda cute, but I mean I think she’d be prettier if I could give her a wig”. Way to start your daughter off with a complex right from the get go – you’ve only just been born, and we’re already giving you body image issues. Yay! (BARF!)

2) Temperature Test Duck

temperature duck

While pregnant, I was walking through Babies R Us with someone who spotted this and exclaimed “Wow! What a genius idea! Now you’ll know if the water is too hot!”.

Umm, correct me if I’m wrong, but in the time it takes you to take the duck and put it in the water, wait for the duck to read the temperature, pick it up and turn it over to read the temperature gauge….. could you not have just put your damn hand into the tub and checked it yourself?! Completely unnecessary.

3) Baby Bottom Fan

baby bottom fan

Baby bum rashes suck. I’ve been there and done that and it is a PAIN IN THE ASS (Haha look at me being punny) to deal with. Any doctor or nurse will tell you that letting your babe air out their tush is crucial to speeding up healing time. But seriously? A baby bottom fan? When my kid is sore and in pain, and doesn’t sit still, I’m not about to put a fan with whirring blades up in there. It’s not like she’d sit still to let me do it anyway. Besides there’s this other thing you can use that will do the same thing for free…. air.

4) Perfume for babies.

Baby Perfume


Seriously. It was recently in the news that Dolce and Gabbana is also releasing a baby perfume, for all those mama’s who are like “Eww I hate the way my baby smells”. Excuse me?
The thing I love most about babies is that baby smell! Their little freshly bathed heads. Besides, who in their right mind is ok with slathering unnecessary chemicals all over their babes skin?

This is just an awful idea all around.

5) Buster ride on vaccuum for toddlers.

Buster Ride on Vaccuum

Ok when I first saw this, I thought this was so unnecessary and just a marketing ploy. Then I really thought about it. Whoever invented this is actually a GENIUS!

This is probably the only thing on this list I might buy. My kid is obsessed with her little ride on cars. She tries to go all over the house with them. She’s also obsessed with the vaccuum cleaner. Why not combine them, let her “play” and then it’s one less chore for Mommy to do?

“Hey Mama, can I PLEEASE ride my car in the house?”

“Sigh… if you must.”

Mom gets to sit back with a Hershey bar while the kid cleans the house without even knowing it.

Where can I get one of these?


“Can we seriously not bring you anywhere fun?”

Picture this. A weekend where both my fiance and I don’t have to work. That’s something worth celebrating – let’s take the kiddo somewhere fun!

There’s this great little place where we live called The Discovery Centre. It’s a place for kids to learn and explore science in fun cool ways. They have lots of hands on stations and exhibits. It’s quite engaging and even the adults can find cool things to do. Even the toys they sell in the gift shop are cool. We’re talking stuffed animals in the shapes of parameciums, DNA, and the flu virus’. Yeah, this Mom is a nerd.

Here’s their website in case you want to have an idea of what I’m talking about: http://www.discoverycentre.ns.ca/

So we decided to take little L there for an afternoon. We go in, pay, and head upstairs to the second floor which is geared more towards the toddler age. Once we got to that floor, her eyes lit up. First instinct – RUN TO ALL THE THINGS!

Between the giant sandbox where you can “dig” for dinosaurs, the bubble room, and the HUGE lego area, you’d think she’d have no reason to complain, right?



Well Mom’s and Dad’s, here’s a little hint for you. DO NOT TRY TO MAKE SURE YOUR KID SEES EVERYTHING. That’s what we tried to do. I mean when you’ve been in the sandbox digging dino’s for 30 minutes, we thought you might be interested in at least KNOWING that there’s a bubble room around the corner. A bubble room where you can actually stand on a platform, pull a lever and have a giant bubble encapsulate your body.

So we tried to lead her towards the bubble room. MELTDOWN!!!

Body on the floor. Face down. Screaming and crying. SERIOUSLY? You don’t even have tantrums like this at home, so you decide to do it in public?! All the other parents are staring wondering what the hell we could have done to make a kid so upset in such a cool place. Not to mention that our kid has an unusually loud voice. Even when she’s happy, she’s LOUD. I’m sure between the screaming and kicking the floor, the building probably measured about a 4.1 on the Richter scale.

Admittedly, once we got to the bubble room, she was so enthralled that the temper tantrum stopped as quickly as it started.

But we had to go through the whole screaming tantrum thing again to go to the Lego. And again to the suspension bridge. And again to the music maker. And again to the big giant wooden truck.

You would think after the first one or two times she’d realize we are only bringing her to something else that is cool! You’d think that Mommy would have learned to stash some emergency chocolate in her purse so that she could shove some in her mouth, close her eyes, and go to her happy place for a few seconds while Daddy deals with Screamy McYells-a-lot.

I’m all for letting my kid experience things first hand, and taking her out to see the world and learn through “doing” rather than being “told” how things work. But maybe we need to wait to try this place again until either she’s just had the best nap of her life, or Mommy is sponsored by Hershey.