face it, I'm 33

And I've been so now for about a week, needing that long to really get comfortable with 33. To make acquaintance with being three decades and three years.

The hubs has this theory that 33 is your first year of real adulthood. Basing this theory on stories you hear of people doing wild, outrageous things like passing out in strange places covered in booze and vomit. These stories being easier to excuse when the protagonist is in there late twenties or even thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two. But thirty-three? Thirty-three is much too staid and steady to be the participant in such reckless, irresponsibility. I mean what would their mortgage broker say, what would their proctalogist think?

And so I give you me, at 33. In the nascence of my adulthood.



A Clean, shiny hair. Its amazing the showering time you gain when your youngest turns two. While still playing outside the shower, we are now playing with real toys rather than a Costco box of tampons. Avert your eyes away from my obnoxious roots. The thing about having a two year old and a four year old is that babysitting for a 3-plus hour colour appointment is hard to score.


B Whitish teeth, the result of cutting down on my pot of coffee a day habit to a much more manageable 1 really big travel mug, with my going back to work. Smile is for being off all summer. Squee!

C Bangs. Because how can you be old with bangs?

D Silver hoop earrings. A welcome addition to the black yoga pants and flip-flops. You just feel more official in silver hoops.

E Eyeshadow and mascara. With my youngest taking for-fucking-ever on the potty, I have all this extra time on my hands.

F Pumped up boob. Remember last summer when I was all like, "I've quit breastfeeding and now I have no boobs, wah wah wah. Pity me and my flat chest." Well that was before The Great Breast Deflation of Fall 2010. Now I literally have no boobs, nothing. -sniff- And they were so good for eating popcorn off from and all the neighbors seemed to like them. Well that was before I found this miracle bra (not the actual brand, this one I found at Winner's in a shaft of golden light shining down from the heavens). I'm not even exaggerating (which means I am a little bit) and so now I have boobs. It took me a while to get used to them, it was hard to drive at first and turn around quickly but we've become acclimatized.

G Great big sectional micro fibre couch. Because we still can't have nice things but are always in need of a pirate ship/skyscraper for Spiderman to jump from/monster truck track/place to feed and nap our 'babies' and Dora. Also you can pee on it and it doesn't even leave a stain, or so I'm told.

H Eye wrinkles from smiling and laughing and crying and then smiling and laughing. Could someone recommend a good eye cream already. One that doesn't cost a mortgage payment. Alright it can cost a mortgage payment as long as its good. We're talking two-bedroom bungalow, open concept, in a neighborhood with only so-so schools. I can't afford the good schools.

I Absence of forehead frown lines. Which is indicative of how much I frown. A good sign, I think.

J Patterned tank-top. Patterned because kids are fucking messy and mine seem to be messier than the average bears. Patterns hide stains. Its very scientific.

K Chin up. Parenting does not get easier just because you or they have a birthday. Success in parenting is totally relational to the position of one's chin. I always try to keep mine in the upright position, plus its easier to hide neck sag that way.

And now that I'm an adult, I'm glad I no longer need to be on flu duty with the kids, because it is undignified for an adult to be passed out covered in puke. That shit would have flown when I was 32 but now that I'm 33, you're on your own kids.

his existence is pretty much a big 'fuck you' to physics in general

Mainly because of his state of perpetual motion, violating laws of thermodynamics world wide. He's probably a scientific marvel.

He runs.

Everywhere.

He jumps.

On everything.

He's in constant orbit, circling me like the sun.

My son.

He's four today. And as I sit down (finally) after a tiring day, month, year(s) of running, telling, negotiating, rocking, waiting, shushing, putting back to bed, holding, bathing, herding, hollering, carrying, shaking my head in frustration, corralling, ignoring, praising, chasing; I put it in perspective, that all this movement, the constantness of it all, is a gift.

The story of my Sawyer's beginning is at the ending of another's. When the ache of motherhood was new in my heart and the need to fill the emptiness, left us feeling anxious and lost and wild.

And with the rising temperatures of that summer and the unforgiving sun beating down on us, we gave way to that wildness and maniac revelry in which it was easy to forget that,what was missing. Our irresponsibility, an abandonment and blatant disregard to the responsible, carried us through the months of long nights and left us in the end sunburned and tired and wanting.

The wanting being an uninvited guest who nagged and pestered and made its presence known in the wake of happy news from friends, we being at the age of happy news. Until the wanting, no longer content to stand behind wavering smiles and choked congratulations, found its way into my frenzied thoughts, driving me towards a preoccupation with recapturing what I had lost. Leaving me bewildered with my own inability, my failure.

The wanting had made permanent residence within, its consumptive nature peering out from behind my eyes. Until he, pained too, took my sullen face in his hands, looked into the green depth of where the wanting lay and said stop.

And I stopped.

In that airy, light time, leaves blew across our path and the coolness on our skin felt better. We felt better. And we laughed and embraced in the face of our new found betterment. Betterment being a more welcome companion to the wanting.

So that our own happy news, didn't seem news at all on that cold November night. Its arrival just being delayed. We forgave it it's tardiness and waited.

We waited for things to take. For it to be okay. To get past the point where it had ended before. When things had gone awry.

We were hopeful, filled with cautious anticipation, singing Beatles songs. Pleading with it to hold on. To stay.

But then there was blood. It's familiarity allowing me a sense of composure, a numbness.

And this composure carried me on wooden legs, into a darkened ultrasound room where I explained to the woman technician that this was not the first and that I expected the worst. And because of the numbness my words were wooden too, hollow.

Maybe it was that hollowness in my voice or the glassiness of my eyes or maybe it was just that she was a mom too. But whatever her reasoning, she broke protocol and turned the screen so that both her and I would see the silvery images there.

Her voice was soothing and murmuring as she moved the wand across my still flat belly, searching. She held her breath when she stopped and I did too.

"There," she said quietly, with warmth, pointing to the screen.

One blinking pixel.

One blinking pixel, until I am no more, will be the single most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes upon.

And many months later, in the glow of a summer heat, my Sawyer was placed in my arms. Where I marvelled at the miracle of him and how I thought he had been lost save for the hope I'd found in that one blinking pixel.

This post helps me to remember that gift. These words being effective remedy for motion sickness.

where have you been all of my life

Yes, I'm aware that my attendance has been poor. Ten months just gets away on a girl. But summer is as good a time as any to catch up, n'est pas? So what have I been doing?

I've been blogging part time.
I've been enlightening young minds.
I've been teaching kids to read.
And write.
I've been replacing the "I need to get away from my kids" stay at home mom guilt with "I need to spend more time with my kids" working mom guilt.
I've been eating a lot of frozen pizza and caesar salad.
I've been wiping noses.
And butts.
I've been loosing myself in books.
I've been missing my 15 month mat. leave.
I've been watching Mad Men.
I've been drinking red wine.
And white.
I've been catching up on all of your blogs.
I've been listening to the Skydiggers.
I've been trying to get my kids to sleep.
I've been wishing I thought to write, "Go the Fuck to Sleep" first.
I've been waiting for the terrible twos to end, we're almost at four.
I've been trying to harness the energy of my children to replace fossil fuels.
So far nothing.
I've been rolling down the hill, which isn't a euphemism for anything, we just have a really big hill in our backyard and its fun to roll down.
I've been potty training my daughter, which is going amazingly well, so amazing in fact that its not even blog worthy.
And my husband hasn't had to talk me off the roof once.
I've been getting new jobs.
And feeling quite proud of myself.
I've been thankful for a husband who excels at foot rubbing.
And kissing.
I've been reminding myself that hanging out with midwives or not getting a period for nine months are not good enough reasons to have a third.
There's not going to be a third.
I've been proud of all my bloggy peeps making waves out in the internet ocean, sistas are doing it for themselves.
I've been packing up my classroom, saying goodbye to the school that has been my home for the last six years and anticipating new beginnings.
I've been gardening.
I've been running in the sprinkler.
I've been waiting for my kids to go the fuck to sleep.
Still.
I've been making strawberry jam.
I've been drinking good coffee.
I've been wearing yoga pants and flip flops.
Again.
I've been painting my laundry room. Which is as exciting as it sounds.
I've been lunching with best friends.
I've been packing for the cottage.
I've been longing for the mountains.
I've been happy.

I'm a Monster

Today I've dragged my sunburned ass out of the woods and am sharing some Mommy Moments over at Mommy of a Monster & Twins. Natalie is all kinds of lovely and would never do something so tacky as get a sunburn. So head on over and have a read, but put on some sunscreen first.