9

I’m not dead, I’m just planning a wedding!

Holy crap, has it really been since December since I’ve written a post? You must have all thought I kicked the bucket and left this planet.

I assure you, I’m still alive. I’m actually in the midst of planning our wedding, so it’s kind of taken over my life. Plus, my work just moved to a brand new location, and I was in charge of a few big projects (including our grand opening) so needless to say, my spare time has been next to nil.

You can also rest assured that my toddler is wreaking her usual havoc, in her cutesy charming ways. Her vocabulary and sentence formation ability has sky-rocketed which has made for some very interesting conversations lately. I’ll get to those – I promise – but a few people have contacted me lately and asked me what’s been going on since I’ve basically dropped off the face of the blogosphere. Well, here goes…

1) We’re getting married! April 28th, 2015 in JAMAICA! I am beyond excited. It will be my fiance’s first time leaving the country, and L’s first trip on an airplane, so it should be interesting keeping her occupied for the flight. Mom’s/Dad’s who have been there and done that when it comes to in-flight toddler entertainment, PLEASE comment with any tips you’ve got to share. I’m so open to them. I can just see us being “that family” with “that screamy kid” on the flight, so if I can avoid that by any means (besides drugging her lol) I’m up for it!

I can't wait to have my toes in the sand on this beach!

I can’t wait to have my toes in the sand on this beach!

I’m also trying to do this on a budget. Well, as much of a budget as you can when flying to another country. I’m trying to DIY stuff, and access free stuff (cause who doesn’t like free?) and get it done on a dime. So if you know of any beachy themed, turquoise & tangerine DIY stuff, send ’em on over!

2) Remember the “Hypocritical Health Hurdles” series I was writing? Yeah… I know it’s been a while, but I’ve SUCCEEDED!!! I’ve lost 21 pounds to date (my goal was 20 pounds), including 3.5 inches from my waist. It’s actually reached a point where other people are starting to notice the changes, and I’m feeling pretty great! I may not be at my ideal weight (that’d be another 20 more pounds…uggh), but I’ve lost it and kept it off, so now I know I can do it! Yay! Plus, I still treat myself to a drive-thru fast food meal, or pizza, or something grease-laden and sweet and awful for me every now and then, so I’m not feeling completely deprived and off my rocker. The big bonus for me? I’ve picked up a few nice sundresses and things for when we go to Jamaica, and they’re not plus-sized! I’m back into regular sized clothes now, from regular stores, and can pick it off the rack! I will never be a size small, and I don’t want to be. I’d like to keep my boobs, my butt, and my curves. Though I do like that now I can keep that curvy look, with a decreased health risk. Overall, I’m feeling pretty great about my success!

Finally!

Finally!

 

3) I wish I knew how to cut my own hair. I’m in desperate need for a haircut. I’m talking a minimum of 6 inches cut off, but it just isn’t in the “mommy budget”. Sigh. Not really an exciting thing to report, but it’s on my mind constantly and every time I look in the mirror. I feel like a fresh new cut/look to go with my fresh new weight loss success would lift my spirits pretty high. Time to save the dollars I guess.

 

Alright, well that’s the life update as for now, so on to the stuff that keeps me giggling every day when it comes to my girl. To say she keeps me on my toes is an understatement.

– L loves to shop. If you ever gave her a choice as to where she wants to go, she’ll almost always say Walmart. I’m not sure why she loves Walmart so much, but now my goal as a parent is to make sure she doesn’t grow up to end up on that people of Walmart website. Have you been there? Basically it’s a website dedicated to posting pictures of people who are spotted at Walmart, wearing clothes to…”impress”. If it were up to L, she’d be in Walmart all day, every day so I don’t want her to turn into the Walmart Creature Feature lol. They aren’t the most fashionable to say the least. Check it out! http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/

– The other day, while in Walmart (maybe I do go there too frequently… am I one of those people?!), L was seated in the front of the cart when she started caressing my chest area and trying to pull my shirt down. It was a fight to keep the girls contained. She kept saying “Mommy, boobies under there. Boobies are hiding! Come out, come out wherever you are Mommy’s boobies!”. If you’ve met my L, you’d also know that she doesn’t understand the concept of an indoor voice, so we were drawing some unwelcome attention. This type of thing occurs regularly. Fun.

– On a cuter note, L wished me a Happy Mother’s Day on Mother’s Day, and every single day since. I’ve stopped reminding her that Mother’s day is over, because frankly, I like being celebrated.

– POTTY TRAINING IS HELL!!! We were having success for such a long time, then she was having some bowel issues. It took a few trips to a pediatrician, followed by some elimination diets to determine she has a lactose sensitivity, which explained the control issues she was having. Now that we have it sorted, we went back to the potty. NO FRIGGIN’ LUCK! I’ve tried sticker charts, bribing with candy, getting rid of pull ups completely and letting her wet her underwear to see if that will help her to learn the “I have to go” signal, etc. She’s TOO DAMN STUBBORN! Our conversations go something like this:

Me: “L, are you pooping sweetie? Let’s go to the potty to finish so we can have a treat!”

L: “Ummm, no thank you. You change my bum!” (she then runs and hides. At least she declines politely, right?)

Me: (trying to remind her the potty is nothing to cry about) “L, remember what we say for the potty? What do we say?”

L: “Happy potty, happy candy!” (basically a short version of if she sits happily on the potty she gets a candy – not a big one, I’m talking like one m&m – which she seems excited about till she sees the potty, then crosses her arms, pouts, and takes off running).

This pretty much sums up her attitude...

This pretty much sums up her attitude…

Or this version:
L: “Mommy, my bum hurts! Owie! Rash!”

Me: “L, you have a rash because you’re in pull-ups. If you used the potty, your bum wouldn’t get rashy and hurt!”

L: “NO THANK YOU! NO POTTY! NO UNDERWEAR! YOU CHANGE MY PULLUP!”

Now I know people are going to say that maybe she just isn’t ready, but I don’t think that’s the case. She was using it successfully until the lactose intolerance problem caused a lack of control for her movements and we needed to use the pull up for security purposes for a period of about 4-5 months. She’s reverted backwards, and I can’t pull her out of it. FML. If I never hear the word potty again, it will be too soon.

How are the rest of you doing? It’s been so long, I feel like I’m practically writing for strangers again! I think I need to get someone to start harassing me on a weekly basis so I don’t fall off the bandwagon again. I miss this place.

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11

Random thoughts on parenting a toddler.

There’s no real rhyme or reason for this post, it’s just a bunch of random thoughts that have been floating around in my head. Scattered thoughts are all I can amount to lately as my brain feels fried and my motivation seems unusually low. Perhaps it is because all things Christmas have taken over my brain. But nonetheless, I have a few thoughts on being a parent to a toddler that I’d like to share with you.

toddler code

When you’re a parent to a toddler, life changes. For one, I can’t pee alone. Ever. It’s like the second I close the bathroom door, a little alarm goes off in her ear and she’s alerted to my desire for privacy. Privacy? What’s that? Definitely not something that makes sense to a toddler! It’s almost as if they remember living inside your body for a year and as a result feel as though mommy’s body is like common-law property – they own 50% and therefore can have access to it whenever they please. Privacy be damned. Besides, she came out of that hoo-ha, so why does Mommy think she needs to hide it? I’m sure in her head she’s thinking “Hey, you get to hover over me while I try sitting on this thing you call a potty. Isn’t it fun when the tables are turned?” Sigh. I just want to pee alone sometimes.

I’ve also learned to lower my standard of “clean”. Clean before kids and clean after kids, are two VERY different kinds of clean. It always looks as though some form of atomic bomb has gone off in my place. It’s a constant battle. Every time I try to put a toy away, she cries, grabs it out of the toy box and throws it back onto precisely the same section of floor I retrieved it from. It’s pointless to pick up unless she’s in bed and can’t physically bear witness to us sacrificing her doll’s life by throwing it in the “toy box of death”. Heaven forbid I put her in a cute outfit, or she’s doing something hilarious I’d like to take a picture of – I have to search for a clean section of the house to take the picture from so that I can post the pic on Facebook without people thinking we live in a home that exploded toddler paraphernalia.

evil-toddler-long-term-plan-funny-picture

I’ve also caught myself talking to my child as if she is a parrot. You know how you tell a parrot “Say Hello!”, “Say, Polly wanna cracker”, etc. That’s how my day goes. “Say thank you!”, “Say Bye Gramma!”, “Say Please”, blah blah blah. Sometimes I wonder if it’d be easier if our toddler’s were little ventriloquist dummies, and we could get them to just move their mouths while we do the talking for them. That’s essentially what I feel like I’m doing all damn day. Living life on repeat, trying to get my kid to say the right things at the right times, and to be courteous. They’re at the cusp of language development, and as a result, Mommy’s sentences have turned into a newfangled toddler language I like to refer to as “Toddlerish” (Toddler + English = Toddlerish).

tumblr_m9l02s7ad81qery84

I resort to bribery. A lot. Especially at dinner time. When L won’t eat, I find myself saying “Will you eat supper if I put on Pingu?”. I’m always (ALWAYS) greeted with an emphatic “yes!”. So Pingu goes on, and L eats. It’s almost magical. It’s amazing how she’s learned to control Mommy and Daddy already into getting to watch cartoons at dinner time. Sigh. L = 1, Mommy =0. Then there’s me being a parrot and repeating the same thing over and over again at the dinner table. “L, please eat your dinner. One bite please. Just one more bite”. Almost every single time I say that I’m greeted with either “No!” or by her grinning at me and drinking water instead. L = 2, Mommy = 0.

There are probably a million more I’m missing, but like I said, my brain is fried and my thoughts are scattered. That’ll get better in 16 years, right?

Sigh. She’s lucky she’s cute.

12

Thanks for drawing more attention to it, kid.

My sweet little L is almost 22 months old, and so far she is taking after myself in the language development department. I had very few words that I would use properly, until just after my 2nd birthday when I all of a sudden went straight to 3-4 word sentences. L has a few words she uses consistently (and properly) but for the most part she still grunts, groans, points, screams and stomps to get her point across.

It’s for this reason, that when my sweet L decides to use a new word properly, we tend to be a little overly exuberant in our excitement and encouragement.

Until today.

L got a new word: Pimple.

She got that word, because Mommy currently looks like this:

I wonder if it's noticeable...

I wonder if it’s noticeable…

Right on my forehead, in a spot you just can’t hide. All you can do is hope that nobody points it out.

Here’s the thing…if you have a toddler, it will be pointed out. Literally.

All day, L kept climbing up as high onto my lap as she could get so that she could take one of her grimy little fingers, jam it into the pimple (which hurts, by the way) and then begin the following dialogue.

L (while jamming her finger into my pimple): “That? That!”

Me: “It’s a pimple sweetie. Please don’t. Ouchie. Why don’t you go colour with your crayons?”

5 minutes later…

L (seems to think it’s funny when she makes me wince in pain with a fingernail in the soon to erupt pimple volcano): “That???”

Me: *Sigh* It’s still a pimple, L. Please don’t touch. Ouchie.

Fast forward to tonight. She climbs on to my lap, jabs into the offensive spot AGAIN (remind me that I can’t be lazy and actually have to wash my face this evening), looks at my fiance C and says “Dada… pimple!”.

Frig. As if it didn’t suck enough to have the eye of mordor on my forehead for the world to see, now she has to make sure that her Dada sees it, too.

So what do I do? Do I hide my forehead with my hand and do the walk of shame to the bathroom? Do I quickly try to distract her with a toy? Do I get defensive and yell at my fiance “And what? Like you’ve never had a zit before!?”.

Nope. I say “Yay! That’s right L, good girl. Pimple!”.

Motherhood changes you.

Now I need chocolate, but I fear at this point I’d just be feeding the beast between my eyes…

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How cute is this!

How cute is this!