Finally, happy Birthday monkey

***Cross-posted at Scientopia

My Dearest Little Monkey -Boy,


You turned four, oh like 5 months ago and I have not yet written you a birthday letter. If you're getting shafted by 4, your poor little sibling is going to be SOL for attention! I'd like to say its not my fault but really it is. I have chosen to be your mom while going to school fulltime, TAing 2 courses, and managing a house. Plus you had to go and be born right AFTER the Christmas / new years crush. I was just too damned tired my love.

And then, well I had to think about what to write and I just couldn't write it. I couldn't think about what an amazing little boy you are. I don't want to realize how fast you're growing up. How it feels like I have such a small window of time with you.

But then I need to let you know that you are a caring and resilient and strong and loving and funny little boy. A boy that I love and am so proud of. You had rough year last year. What with mommy and daddy both crazy busy at work, then your big baba passing, mommy always tired from incubating the baby. Through it all, you've been rock solid. You've had your meltdowns, which really I can't blame you for. But mostly you've been loving, gigglying at me when I fall asleep reading to you - isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Stroking my arms, as I fall asleep next to you, just as I used to do to you. Making me laugh, asking me if I'm happy.  Its been hard having your mama lose her shit more frequently. Its hard when your mama used to have the patience of a saint with you.  Now that all the crazy has subsided, I hope I can get back to where I was with you before.

Watching you with your Dad cracks me up. He spoil you rotten and you know it. You know exactly how to get what you want from. And OMG are you ever your fathers son. From the stinky poo's and toots, to the contagious laughter. You really must be the happiest silliest boy. And the most active. Even your Dad can't keep up with your need to fight, wrestle, run, jump, ride all right now. Or you have to be dancing and singing. I swear there must be a music gene, because just like your father you know all the songs and artists that you like. and all the trucks makes and models.

Your excitement for the new baby makes me so proud. Watching as you share and take turns with other kids. So caring and generous. How did you become like that? How does a 4.5 year old have as much compassion as you? I am so proud of how you look out for your little niece and nephews and know you're going to be such an amazing big brother.

I am scared of what is coming next though. Your curiosity is insatiable and I have no idea how to answer your million and one questions. How do I explain to you how the baby comes out? or where big baba has gone?  Can't you stick to simple questions like why is the grass green? I guess if you did that you wouldn't be my son would you? The only thing you have from me. My curiosity and my stubborness. I hope that means you're going to go far.

I love you, little man. You promised me yesterday you'll be a good teenager. Please keep that promise.
your mama.

Don't say no one ever told you.

For the time first ever, I am going to write out my birthing experience of monkey. I'm doing this for a variety of reasons. (1) I want my story out there for subsequent posts I would like to do on the use of midwifery in women's health. Before I can do that, I need to have my experience out there to refer to. In follow up posts I will discuss why I choose a midwife over "traditional" medicine etc. (2) So none of you can claim to be going into the decision to push a child out your nether regions uninformed.

It taken me 4+ years to discuss what happened when monkey decided to pop out of my nether regions.  I don't really know why since I don't remember being traumatized by it.  Was it hell? OH HELL YES!!! It it was long painful and excruciating. To the point that when I think of giving birth, I reflexively cross my legs. Know I haven't thought about what its going to be like for the inmate.  However, I also remember knowing I would do it again, without question, minutes after that little boy was in my arms.  Apparently, according to my midwife, the notes from my last birth said it was traumatic. 

How did the labor start? Without me knowing. I was over a week late and at the midwife getting checked out and making sure everything was OK. They also massage the cervix to try and prep you.  When I arrived, she measure my belly and was immediately concerned that there was a change from the 3 days prior (when you're late you have to go in frequently).  Each midwifery practice has about 3-4 midwifes that all see you as the individual who delivers your baby depends on who is on call at the time, so the midwife I was seeing, called the one I had seen 3 days earlier to make sure she wasn't mis-reading the chart etc. She double, triple checked to make sure I was safe.  Since there was a change in my tummy size, possibly indicating a loss of amionitic fluid (not good) she sent me off to the hospital. She would've driven me there herself, but I did not want to leave my vehicle there and I really really needed to stop off for some Wendy's.

MW met me at the hospital and I was taken in to get an ultrasound done to ensure baby was OK and then I was set up on a fetal monitor for over an hour.  Everything seemed OK and from the monitoring it looked like I was in labor - not that I could feel it.

I was at the hospital pretty late, so hubby and awesome BIL picked up some greek food and we chilled out. I started to get pretty uncomfortable and thought maybe I had over eaten ( I LOVE souvalki).   At some point during the night I felt this incredible urge to take a shit, but nothing came out. This happened a couple time before I remembered that the feeling of having to do a number 2 is a sign of labor.

I had begun early labor at ~ 11pm on a friday.  All night, every hour or so I would get contractions.  All morning, I would get contractions 10 minutes apart for about 2 hours, then nothing and then they would start up again. These were HELL contractions, doubling over in pain, radiating from the small of back all around.  My MW kept in touch with me all day via phone advising me to conserve my energy, to eat and drink well.

At 6 pm on saturday they contractions started 5-6 min apart and got into the bathtub to try and get some relief. The midwife arrived at my house with 30 minutes. Turned off the bathroom lights, lit some candles for a more soothing atmosphere and had my husband keep a pot of water on the stove hot.  Her and Mr.SM took turns pouring water down my back, keeping the water warm, making sure I didn't slip under the water as I dozed off.  I was probably in the tub for 4+ hours. The only reason I got out, was that it was uncomfortable. If it had been bigger, I would've stayed in.  Oh and I puked about 3 times in that period.

I needed to sleep so I went to my king size bed and slept as much as I could. Mr.SM and MW dozed as much as they could in between the contractions and counter pressure. I was progressing very very slowing. At 3 am the pain was getting to much and I wanted to go to the hospital. The MW tried convincing me to go back into my tub - I should've listened to her.

I didn't want that. I was in pain and I wanted to drugs so she took me to the hospital where I was pre-registered. I immediately went into the shower, which only had a hard cold tile floor to sit on. I wished I was back at home.  I was having major back labor. Monkey's head was on my tail bone and it was excruciating.  I was progressing very slowly.  There was no anesthetist available till 7 am so I could not get an epidural till then.  By this time, there were two MW's there and it was up to me & Mr. SM to decide if we wanted to wait or if I wanted to try fentanyl with NO.  I chose the fentanyl.

At 1 pm Sunday (yes I started on friday) I was exhausted, the contractions were slowing, my water had still not broken and I was only 9 cm dilated.  I was frustrated because my body was giving out. This wasn't supposed to happen to me. I was the one who hiked up crazy mountains 5 month prego. I was running till I was 8 months. I was fit. I was strong. WTF!!! Frustrated and dejected I told MR.SM to just cut the child out of me.  At some point the MW wanted me to try and push even though I had no urge. I think she wanted to try and get some movement happening.

Thankfully he knew better. He talked me off the ledge.  The MW really really wanted to me to try letting her give picotin to try and get my labor going especially since the OB/GyN who she called in for a consult would not try forcep or vacuum unless I progressed more.

Since Mr.SM knew that I really really didn't want a C-section and since monkey was not in trouble - I was just exhausted, he OK'd the administration of picotin and waiting to recall the OB.  It was going to take 30 minutes to get the OR ready anyway so they figured they might as well get me going again.

The picoten worked. I felt the urge to push, something I was feeling before. Unfortunately I had already been signed over to the OB who ended up giving me an epidural. Why I'm not sure as it "didn't take" according the anesthesiologist and would only take "the edge" off.  Because I had progressed significantly (thanks to the picotin) the OB didn't do the surgery and used a vacuum to help monkey out.  For some reason I still ended up with third degree tears  perineal tear - perineal skin, muscles and anal sphincter are torn). I've been told by some dr that OB's should be able to prevent such severe but I don't know. 

The midwife apologized after as she felt she gave poor advice in getting me to push when my body wasn't ready and in not getting me an epidural. I was very happy with the care I was given. My only regret is getting the epidural. It didn't take and resulted in me being kept from by baby for >1 hr in recovery.  After monkey was born, all I got was a bundled up look for less than 2 minutes before he was whisked away with Mr.SM and I was put in recovery. 

The first people Mr.SM saw with monkey were his father and mine. They cried and held each other. My MIL got to cuddle with my child before I did. This pisses me off.

Now that I'm done writing this, I'm glad I did. It will help me remember what I want and why. I've been told this birth should be easier....I guess we'll find that out sometime this summer :)




 

Small Acts of Kindness - Thank you

I'm inspired by  Canadian GirlPostdoc to thank the anonymous skiers who were so wonderfully kind to me yesterday.

I've been having a rough time this semester as I'm TAing for the PI from Hell. S/he is very passionate about teaching undergrads, really really wants them to do well and expects me to care and be as excited about the class as s/he is. I've TA'd this course previously, but s/he has changed the content in hopes of it being more relevant. My biggest issue is that she is a control freak who asks for my opinion but then disregards whatever s/he doesn't agree with and gets visibly angry if I express disagreement. And S/he dictates exactly what I must do, to the point of getting angry if I deviate even slightly to help the students. Its frustrating and demeaning.  It is rude and disrespectful to micro manage me and to treat me as if I have no experience or intelligence.


But whatever, I'm away this weekend on yet another ski trip. We're not at are usual 8+ drive away to the amazing family resort we usually go to but to the closer, large touristy mountain. I expected large crowds with people being annoyed at monkey and me for being so slow. I was wrong. I was in the mountaintop food purchasing line up. It was just monkey and my prego self. The poor little guy was tired and hungry from the morning adventures and was basically only capable of holding his gloves and following little instructions like go get the chocolate milk you want to drink.  So I was holding his helmet, jacket, my goggles, toque and wearing all my gear (so I"m HOT!!!), while also holding our tray of food, when I noticed he had dropped one of his gloves in the line up behind us. It was so crowded behind us and I"m no longer able to easily maneuver  that I just said we would have to go look for it after. I tried looking all on the ground to see if I could find it but I couldn't. While this is happening, so random boarder/skier noticed, went back found the glove and gave it to me.  Thank you!

All day, individuals helped me as they saw me struggle to keep monkey engaged, carrying all the gear. Keeping an eye for monkey's gloves, asking if I needed help. I did not expect this at this mountain. It was refreshing.

Hey Pot did you know you're black?

Yep thats me trying to be funny or witty or something.  You know the old saying, its like the pot calling the kettle black? When you tell someone do not something or tell someone they're being unrealistic, even though you are exactly the same? My BFF are kinda like that and when one of us got a bit preachy about the other shouldn't be so hard on themselves, they're expectations are to high blah blah we would look at each and laugh. Or point at ourselves, say "kettle" and then at the other and say "pot".  I'm having that moment.

You see this is where Mxx will laugh at me and say, honey do you not remember you're own advice to me on that post you linked to? Hahahahaha!!!!!

This semester is turning out to be a bit of a bitch. Right now is the first time since probably before christmas where I am sitting down and sorting out thoughts. Its been go go go go. Partly because I'm TAing for the most control freak, incredibly demanding of my time PIs.  S/he wants me to attend every lecture despite the fact its a class I have TA'd before, expects me to meet with s/he at least 1x/week, mark >40 assignment / week and assist with developing the mid-term and homework questions. Since all that would take more than my 12hrs/week I am assigned, I have refused to help develop questions. Plus why the fuck should I? S/he's been teaching for over 2 decades, they shouldn't need my help.  The freaking class sucks up 2.5 days of my 5 day work week. 0.5 day is suck up with lab meeting and whick really leaves me with 1.5 days to get data for the the first aim of my thesis collect before the parasite pops out.

Yeah I'm freaking out just a bit. It doens't help that things at home are busy, only because last year was such a cluster fuck of a year that I'm totally behind on home organizational shit. You know that little things like makings sure all the important papers are filed away in a manner that makes putting out taxes together in a month easy. Getting our personal finances back on track. As in actually tracking where are money is being spent so that I can figure out how to squeeze out another $1000/month for daycare in a year.


Oh and apparently we're supposed to be getting our kitchen renovated so that we aren't paying for heat that is going out the windows that don't shut properly and that we actually have space to put all our dishes etc. 

Did I mention that monkey now has after school and weekend activities? I swear I don't sit down till I got to bed, which is usually by 9:30 because I can't fucking stay awake. It also means I'm waking up at 5am freaking out about the shit I didn't read / prep / clean the night before.

Did you also know that monkey turned 4, over 2 weeks ago and I have yet to write my yearly letter to him???!!!! I should've done that now, but I needed to vent. I'm sure my baby will understand.

What do I do?

I want to smack him hard, but hitting children these days is frowned upon. So how do you appropriately punish an almost 4 year old for putting coins into my laptops cd/DVD drive?

The very expensive MacBook pro I received as a mothers day gift? The computer he knows he is not allowed to touch?
Suggestions are appreciated.





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Bad Mom Moment

I lost my cool today. For the first time in >3.5 years, I screamed and yelled at my child. I used foul language. He was shaking he was so scared.

As I look back at it, hours later I can see all the places I went wrong and keep wondering what the fuck happened to me?

I know why I was mad. He locked the washroom stall door. I told him to open it and he refused. I could see him sitting on the toilet, pants off jacket still curling under his bum. I knew what was going to happen.
I asked him to unlock the door. He refused.
Then he couldn't get his jacket off. He knew poopoo was coming but wouldn't open the door. I refused to crawl underneath. What is that teaching him about listening and consequences? I believe that was the right thing to do.

The wrong thing was losing it when he threw his jacket out, with the inside smeared with poo. Seriously what was the big deal? We'd take it home and wash it. Looking back, I should've said, you made your jacket dirty because you didn't unlock the door like I asked. Now we're leaving the park to go home.

Instead, I got mad. I yelled at, told him to open the door. He said No I'm going poo poo. For some reason, I LOST it. I yelled at him to open the God Damn fucking door now. I had never screamed or sworn when I talked to him before.

Poor kid started crying because the poo fell into his underwear, because I was mad, because we had to go home. It was horrible. Apparently my sister heard him outside. I feel so bad. I don't know what happened to me. I rarely yell, let alone scream. I hate yelling and screaming.

We got home and I cleaned him up. I apologized for getting mad. I explained that I was really really frustrated because I knew the jacket was going to get stuck and was really upset that he didn't open the door when I asked. Still I scared the shit out of him and myself.

I know he'll be fine. I know he knows how much I love him and every one has there moments. However, I've been trying really hard to be the level headed, calm, rational mom I never had.

UGH. I might sleep in his big boy bed with him tonight. more for myself then him..

I Love him

I do. But he moves as slow as molasses (just like his dad) which drives me nuts. It tests my patience constantly. Especially when I have stuff to get done. Combine that with the persistent asking of why and then mommy mommy uhm. Well on a good day, it's enough to make me grind my teeth and be exasperated. On days like today, when I'm tired and generally frustrated with the school and family shit that is going on, it's enough to put me in an asylum.

Save me from Divorce!

Monkey comes with me to campus everyday 5 days a week. Which means we spend alot of time together in the car, listening to either the radio or my musical tastes, which I have no problem are decidedly pop. Trust me when I say, I like music, but know very little about it. As in a long time ago, I was all whatev about R.E.M and saying I don't even like their stuff, when Mr.SM pointed out I was singing along to their music. I looked at him (I'm not lying) and said thats R.E.M?

Mr.SM still gets frustrated with me for not knowing about certain Allstars Jazz to blues to Rap (which seriously I don't understand, we've been together for over ten years, has he not realized I know nothing about music or sports??? why be freaking surprised). You name the genre he knows about it. He LOVES musics, as he tells me on a regular basis, death metal got him through his teenage years. Just to make the dichotomy of our tastes clear, Mr.SM grew up in the middle of no where listening to Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. I grew up in the middle of suburbia listening to Wham/George Micheal and Madonna. Last year when I could only afford to go to one concert, it killed me to have to choose between them. When I asked my husband if he wanted to go to George Micheal he responded that I couldn't drag him there with wild horses.

Which is not say that he doesn't appreciate pop. He was amused that monkey can sing along to Black Eyed Peas and Lady Gaga. That he will sing usher on his own (really how hard is usher).
However if he finds out that monkey was singing along to this:


I am pretty confident he will divorce me. So I need y'all to suggest child friendly music to listen to on our commute. I need music that will not make me want to kill myself, but also not filled with profanity, degrading to women etc. I pretty much like anything except metal. Suggestions would be appreciated.

I would just like to clarify that I do not want any child-targeted music. I will lose my mind (especially right now) if I have to listen to a modern day version of the mini-pops. Nor do I want monkey's musical education to be as poor as mine. I envy individuals who grew up in families that could appreciate music. I intend to put the little guy into guitar lessons etc. I just have an issue with him singing about brushing his teeth with a bottle of Jack or how he wants to smack that ass...

I know hard!

So far I'm thinking, K'naan, bob dylan, sloan, dixie chicks, feist.

I should be proud and happy

But I'm sad. I feel so sad.

Mr.SM really really really wanted to get a few more ski trips in, so we're up at our cabin for the Easter Long weekend. Since I really really have to get this proposal finished (initial draft sent and received back), I was not willing to come. It was negotiated that I would come up and spend time with the family in the evenings, while the "boys" would ski during the day. Monkey's skiing consisted of going to daycare and having a 1 hour lesson.

This was a hard decision as I strongly feel that when we're away from home monkey's shouldn't be in daycare. Yes go in ski camps etc but he's in daycare all week, all year so these vacay days he shouldn't be in. Plus I wasn't sure how he would react to a new place.

Well ran in to the care place with NO issues - which I was actually happy about.
Mr.SM just picked him up and apparently my little monkey LOVED it and went down the BIG HILL!!!! This was his first time on ski's and he's bombing down the mountain!!! The little majic carpet was either broken or the wind made the conditions not very good there, so the instructor took my little boy, LITTLE boy up the chair lift and down the big mountain the FIRST TIME. And my child LOVED it.

I should be happy about this is, but I'm not.

I'm terrified because my child is my heart. And like me at his age, he has no fear. Have you been on a ski hill? Have you seen those freaking 2 foot speed demons bombing down the runs? Have you not seen the nutty thing kids do! My child will do those. I haven't nicked name him monkey just for kicks. And so I'm a terrified. I will not say anything. I will be proud of him and I will cheer him on and I will pray all day long.

I should be proud of him, how much fun he's having. But my little boy is now that much bigger and I am sad. I haven't posted much about how much he's growing, how independent he's getting. How he doesn't need me anymore. Yes I know he needs me, but not in that you're my security and I don't like it when you're not around way. Yes I know its good and its great to have the freedom. It is nice to know I can go away and he's OK. But it also hurts just that little bit. That little bit that I don't acknowledge. Its just happening too fast

And then they say kids are not like pets

Heard in the SM household today:

"I wanna plaaay!!"

"OK, put your shoes and jacket on and I'll let you out"

Peepee's, weewee's and penises

Overheard in the SM household:
"Mommy where's my penis"
"In your underwear"
"Where is your penis"
"I don't have one"
"Why"
"Girls don't have them"
"Does daddy have one?"
"Yes"
"Does female cousin have one?"
*******
I haven't actually used anatomically correct terms with monkey, I don't agree with using them at this age. I'm perfectly comfortable with refering to monkeys penis as his peepee. Unfortunately, I have to give up control about things such as this. ECE are not allowed to use slang. In sense I agree with that ad I wouldn't want someone referring to it as the one eyed snake or something silly. But can't peepee's just be peepee's?

****
I am so going to start getting wacked out search terms.

Three Years Ago

My dearest dearest monkey,

Three years ago, yesterday, I was assisted by a vacuum to get you out of me. You did not want to come out. Nothing really has changed. You still don't want to X. Every morning you say I don't want to wake up, I don't want to go to school. Everyday when I pick you up, you say I don't want to go home. I don't want to eat dinner. I don't want to go to sleep. I'm. Not. Tired. Yeah right kiddo, that's why you fall asleep half way through Cat in the Hat.

You've done alot this past year. The boy who would not speak. The boy who's language I was really really worried about has turned into the boy who does not stay quiet. You're a walking talking commenter on everything that goes on. I have to really watch what I say, as you repeat EVERYTHING. I never thought that was going to happen.

You've become a stereotypical boy who loves all things trucks. Firetrucks, ambulances, police cars, dumptrucks, garbage trucks. You know the difference between a digger and a frontloader, a pick up truck vs a jeep truck. You know grandpas truck, uncle's truck, daddy's truck (we have alot of trucks in the family). This Christmas you received so many trucks you got a truck high.

You use the potty! Although you won't tell me when you need to go, if I put you on every 2 hours, you will go in the potty. You will not go in your pants unless I've been bad about getting you to a toilet (its been >3 hours since I last took you). You don't like the feeling of being wet, so I'm pretty sure you'll start telling me in the next few months. I'm not too concerned. You seem to want to do things on your schedule, when you want to. Hmm, wonder where you get that from. Just remember, you won't ever be able to out pig-head your mother.:)! If you don't believe me, ask your dad.

And yet you're not a stereotypical boy. You love your baby cousins. You are so gentle and nurturing with them. Hopefully we'll be able let you be an older brother one day. You say I love mommy and it melts my heart. Your hugs and kisses are like gold to me. I can't get enough of them.

You're not a little baby anymore. You're not even a toddler.No matter what you're my little boy. You really are a mama's boy. You love me more than anything I think. It has to be mommy's hand you hold, mommy who puts you to bed, mommy who does everything. I hope you know how much your daddy loves you too.

Happy Birthday munchkin. I'm sorry you're party not at your home, but great-grandpa should be with us to celebrate. LOVE you LOTS

I'm the best mom EVER!

Not to toot my own horn, but I just purchased this for the monkey as a christmas gift. I rock! However, I did not buy it from Amazon because they suck.

Prison Break Preschool Edition

We had an incident yesterday where my little monkey decided to wander off without telling anyone. He was found just outside of the building and all is well that ends well, but I am still recovering from the feeling of having my child vanish. He's bee cuddled alot yesterday and today by mommy. To lighten the mood, I've decided to finally tell y'all about that time he escaped from daycare..

****

I may or may not have mentioned before that my little boy is the stereotypical boy. Fully obsessed with trucks, cars, dirt and all things bugs. He must have his McQueen at all times. From the toilet to his bed, a car or truck must be in his hands. At daycare, if there is no truck out when he arrives, he will hound and hound the caregivers until they bring out a truck or car.

One sunny morning this past summer we walked into the yard and there were no trucks, cars, ride-ons or bikes in the play-yard, ditto inside the center. I asked the Center Supervisor what was up with the lack of typical boy centered toys and she responded that she would like my monkey and a couple other stereotypical boys to expand their play, as such she wasn't going to put out any trucks, cars, ride-ons or bikes. "Okay, good luck with that" was my doubtful response. I dropped off monkey and went to the lab

I ended my experiments early that day and instead of enjoying some quiet time to myself, I decided to pick my little monkey up early. I drove over to the daycare, parked the car and walked upto the center. I was a bit confused as it was sunny, definitely past snack time yet the playyard was empty. This is strange I thought to myself, and proceeded to walk into a center that was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. As soon as I was seen, a very frazzled and upset caregiver looked at me and said "I need to talk to you now in the office now". WTF! I thought to myself as I quickly started looking for monkey. All the other caregivers quickly jumped up to say "he's here eating snack, he's OK". Okay, what is going on? I walked into the office and found out:


My child had escaped. He broke out of the daycare.

He had been casing the fences all morning, eyeing the trucks in the other play yard. He had is eye on the prize and all he had to do was figure out how to get that truck. He watched the care givers to figure out their habits, found the smallest gap in the fence - between the building and the end of the fence. Now he just had to wait for the perfect time. It was after nap, when everyone was busy with getting the kids peed and fed. He snuck out of the center into the yard, quickly to the fence before anyone saw him. Squeezed himself between the fence and the building, yeah "I'm in" he thought as he ran to the truck in the other play yard!

Except the caregiver for the other center was watching the whole time and busted his delinquent ass. She brought him back over to his center, freaking everyone out that he had gotten out, hence the quietness. All the children were lectured on the importance of telling someone before they went outside.

Normally I would be quite upset at the situation, but after talking to the caregiver it was very clear that this was not something that had happened before on her watch, she was very upset and was not taking the situation lightly,

This next morning we arrived to the center to find wind chimes on all the doors. You have to love it when your child instigates new policies.

Oh and I asked the Center Supervisor if she was happy about the new ways monkey found to play. She responded that all the trucks, cars, ride-ons and bikes that the center owned would be put out for monkey.

I"m totally frustrated

He had two accidents in less than 2 hours in public. The second one I can take the blame for, as it had been about 1 hour since his last accident. But the first one? I had JUST taken him to the toilet. He swore he didn't have to go. Not even 2 min later he was peeing in middle of the kids book store. Seriously!!! FUCK!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know I can't force him to pee and I normally don't get mad at him for having an accident, but he just refuses to give a shit and it is really really really getting under my skin. He has complete control, he knows he's supposed to go potty in the toilet. But he is refusing. I don't want to punish him for having accidents but seriously he needs to indicate to me when he has to go.

I try so hard not to get mad, to not turn this into a power struggle but fuck it is hard.

A challenge to say the least

Many of you have read my first Scientiae offering which details why Summer is no longer happy happy joy joy for me. To add to the challenges, Monkeys campus daycare is closed for this week and the next. Taking a full two weeks off, when our microscope is finally up and running is not feasible, plus I work with flies. I'm constantly setting up crosses to obtain specific genotyps and doing dissections. With the genotype creation, its usually a series of crosses. I can't just put the procedure on ice. Oh how I miss cell culture!

What has my solution been? To bring the monkey with me to work. Which has been a challenge to say the least. However, what has made it feasible and non-stress inducing is that everyone has been supportive of me having him there. From my PI and my lab mates to other PI's and students in other labs. Everyone has assisted me in watching him while I start an experiment or have a discussion with someone about a science issue. I have also been considerate. I'm not coming in till around 10 am. I do some washes, set my primary and/or secondaries and then I take the monkey out for a long campus walk and some lunch. We come back for his stroller, what ever procedure I have to do and then off to walk him in his stroller for nap. I am physically exhausted, am not working at 100% but I am getting some stuff done, 1 experiment a day. This is what a supportive environment is about.
Not once has some grumbled that he shouldn't be here, not once has someone indicated that the mr should take time off. Nope everyone has been great about exclaiming the stupidity of closing daycare for 2 weeks in August. Its grant time for PI!

Anyway blogging will be lite for the next little while. Hopefully when i get back I'll remember to tell y'all about the time monkey escaped from daycare...

Breath in, Breath out, Breath in, Breath out

I have to remember that. Getting mad at monkey does NOT help with potty training. Its just OM FUCKING GOD frustrating. I just put you the toilet, like literally you just got off, I was digging for your clean underpants in the just washed basket and you let it rip onto the living room. WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!! I asked you to push for pee.

Banging head against the wall.

Breath in, Breath out. Breath in, Breath out.

You can figure out how to unlock my iphone but the whole potty in toilet you can't?? WTF?

Protocol for peeing?

Monkey is in full toilet training mode. No more diapers, except at sleep time. Although it has not yet happened, what is the protocol if he pees in the middle of the store? Should I be carrying out roles of Bounty in addition to the multiple changes of pants and underwear?

Oh why hello officer! How are you today?

Actually that is not how I greeted them. Yes, two RCMP officers showed up at my doorstep this evening. I saw them approaching as I was sitting at my kitchen table. They appeared to be doing a walk around my house, which of course freaked me right out so I jumped up and ran to the door swinging it open, asking OMG why are you here? What is going on???

Which in hindsight probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. I mean seriously folk, if the cops are poking around the outside of your house and you didn't call them, perhaps you may want to stay inside.

Luckily they were just checking to make sure everything was OK, cuz you know the 911 call followed by a hang up and no answer when they called back. Kinda makes the police nervous.

Yep, I'm one of those parents. Yes I begged forgiveness. Yes please come in my house, look all over. Yes its a mess. Yes I have a screaming, damn it I will be independent 2.5 year old. Gosh no, I'm not sending him outside in the rain barefoot and pantless, that would be bad parenting.***

To be honest I am a bit confused because I swear I did not hear a phone ring, nor was the phone actually on when I found the boy with it. But sure enough, there were THREE missed calls. Guess the monkeys screaming was louder than the phone. Or perhaps I was distracted by overflowing kitchen sink? How does a sink fill that quickly? and how does a barely 2.5 year old figure out how to plug the sink, in less than 5 minutes? Or maybe it was the the pee all over the kitchen floor that made me miss the call? or the fact that I was cleaning poopy underwear and pants? How did the poo get all over the inside of the pants if he was wearing underwear???? Did I mention I was trying to make dinner at the same time?

I am sorry RCMP. I know better. You have way more important things to be doing then having to come make sure I am safe. Plus it took you away from people who actually need your help...my bad.

***Well yes I was sending him outside in the rain in nothing but a shirt and diapers. However his dad had just come home, seen the two officers and ran into the yard to find out what was happening. Guess he's not too smart either. Anyhoo, once Mr.SM saw that I and the monkey were OK, he went back to his vehicle to get his things. Which is just when the monkey came to the front door. Well seeing his dad walking away initiated a cry for daddy and I really just wanted to deal with the cops so I said "go follow daddy, it OK". After which the RCMP Officer looked at me and said "its kinda of wet out here". Oops...

because a little rain really hurts...

An open letter to monkey

My dearest little demon.

I love you. I really do. And for once I am actually happy you didn't listen to me. Had you actually listened to me, we wouldn't be having as much fun as we are. I totally dig listening to you tell me about your day. How you fell over the bike. Or how you need the yogurt bar or you need this. You really are a riot. The way you stop at the sound of siren and whisper, with you hands up in the air, police car. Even when you scream for your daddy because I won't let you have your way, I love you. Really though, do you think you're going to when the battle of wills? I am your mother. Although, I'll never admit to another human being, where do you think you get that determination from? Your mama ain't no push over.

But lets focus on the fun bits. What a little personality you have! I love how you tip your head to the side when you're asking for something you know you're not allowed to have. How have you learned so soon in life that a tip of your head and a bat of those eyes will get you far? You've managed to wrap daddy around you little finger with that little maneuver. It is amazing how such a little package can turn your dad to mush. Underneath his gruff exterior, I knew your daddy was a softy, but really you've turned him into a pile feathers. You really do own him. He can't stand to see you cry. Which in part makes me love him and in part aggravates me to no end. Maybe that is why you've become daddys' little boy. Its him you want at bedtime, him that you want to stay with on the weekends. I admit I'm a tad jealous, but seeing the two of you lying together on the couch, really makes me a happy lady. It reminds that really it is just science.

I know now that you have to keep growing. Fair enough, I know with every stage I will love you more. I know you want to be independent (damn those genetics), how about we a deal. You cut down on those 15 minute temper tantrums and I won't suffocate you with hugs and kisses? Actually, you know I can't stop doing that. I love you too much. How about you just cut down on those temper tantrums?