night time

We (I) have been trying to night wean BG for the last 5 months. I think she's getting it now, though. I keep repeating that the MaMas need to sleep so they can make milk for her in the day. They sleep at night and wake up when there is sunshine.

Today:
me: all right, that's enough. I have to get DD a drink
BG: but mommy, there's sunshine.
me: uh huh
BG: I can nurse if there is sunshine

Fair enough. If it is this important to her, I guess I'll be nursing a bit more during the day for a little while longer.

clothes for school

DD is starting school in the fall. She has a lot of clothes. An awful lot of clothes. I was telling her that I didn't need to buy her any clothes for the fall, except for maybe tights and shoes.
"But mommy, I'm going to need something to cover my nipples!"
"You already have shirts. They'll cover you up top."
"Oh. That's good. I don't want anyone to see my nipples when I go to school."
uh huh.
I want to be four.

getting my garden ready

I have a small plop of land I like to dig in.
I turfed lots of lillies, filled in a little rubber pond, moved a rather sad tea rose bush, relocated two hostas and gifted a Jacob's ladder to get my garden to the right shape and size.
I bought 3 bags of mushroom compost to turn into it. very stinky.
I waited three weeks. turned another two bags or so worth of our own kitchen compost into it. Lots of organic material in there now. plenty of worms. lots of not so rotted seeds.
I gave the children an onion from my kitchen that was sprouting to dig into the garden. For something they pull out of the soil every few weeks to check that it's growing, it is doing remarkably well
A week after turning in our compost and planting the onion, a lot of green things sprouted in my garden space. I turned it all again (but the onion) after pulling all the little green things out.
Ten days later, many more little green things have sprouted. They look like squash. Fair enough, we eat squash at least every two weeks in the fall and winter.
I've pulled most of the new green things, leaving two that were distinctly different in colour and leaf shape. We'll see what those turn into.
Oddly enough, two of my children chose to plant pumpkins for their vegetable, and the youngest chose zuccini seeds as her veggie of choice.
Fourteen tomato plants went in, as I love tomatoes and BG also loves tomatoes. Five are cherry tomatoes for immediate eating and the rest are for canning and sauces. mmm nothing like fresh sauce in the middle of winter. yum.
now the hard part starts-waiting for fresh delicious veggies from our own garden.

getting dressed

I am the mom. I am not a fashion model. Nor do I always know what shirt goes with which pants. Do not ask me for fashion advice, as I am not a fashionista. I used to follow what was hot and what was not, know which collections were amazing and even the names of some of the photographers. Not anymore. Now I dress for comfort, not for speed. I own more running shoes than heeled shoes, and cannot think of a single item of clothing I have purchased in the last eight years that has not been primarily involved in the care and raising of small children. I am not complaining, just stating a fact.

It is only fair that my children reflect this disinterest in fashion back at me. From the time they are old enough to choose their own clothes, they do. I really care only that they are dressed when they go out the door.

I prefer that the school aged one wear his clothes right side out, but I don't always see that they aren't before he goes out the door. So it goes (God, I love Kurt Vonnegut). I know how cruel children can be and would spare DS that. Then again, his tags don't hurt him when they aren't touching him.

I prefer that their genitals be covered by panties or tights when we are out, but sometimes the girls are commando because they are wearing pants and therefore covered. Can't really argue the logic. DS will wear jockeys under his pj's since the incident with the zipper. Use your imagination.

I try to avoid upsetting stomachs with clashes in fabrics and patterns, buying in certain colour families to harmonize the children's clothes, but when it comes to hand-me-downs and gifts, I'm certainly not going to throw them away. Some gifts may spend their lifetime packed in a box until they have been outgrown, so I don't have to worry about sunburns from spaghetti straps or blisters from poor fit. The kids pick out their own clothes. It's an easy battle to not have to fight.

Obviously, I don't police their clothing choices that much. I do have some controls though-nothing that I wouldn't wear. For example, 4 YO DD gets a tankini, not a bikini. She's FOUR! Four year olds are not sexual objects. No short shorts for any of them. Eww. If you don't want to picture me wearing it, it's really not suitable for a child. Now get the image of an overweight almost forty year old with cottage cheese legs wearing hot pink short shorts out of your head! HA!

I have decided that this will be my strategy when the children are older. You wanna go goth? emo? metal? wear your ass hanging out of your jeans? I'll dress just like you OUT IN PUBLIC. I don't care about looking like a fool, but as a teenager, you might not appreciate having a fifty some year old dressing your age. That's my plan. Think it'll work?

the nose

In our house, we have problems with nose picking. We all suffer from seasonal allergies and well, it just makes for some booger issues.

At dinner yesterday, looked over at DS(7) and he had a finger up each nostril, chewing.
"Get your fingers out of your nose!"

"I just wanted to see if I could chew with my nose plugged."

Trying very hard to control ourselves, snickering and snorting madly, hiding our faces until we could clearly respond, "And could you chew with your nose plugged?"

"Yes, but it is very hard to swallow."

Oh the things you learn at the dinner table. At least we were at home and not out to dinner with someone we were trying to impress:)

Cussing again.

BG has a new favourite word. Dammit. Well, actually it is my favourite word. I say it all the time instead of saying other, less polite words at those rather stressful times.

Milk has been poured, overflowing the cup, going all over the table, the book I'm reading, the chair and is pooling on the floor. Dammit.

Someone has removed their soiled diaper, stepped in it and walked all over the carpet to get to the potty. Dammit.

Someone has used a pencil to draw pictures all over the walls in the kitchen, dining room, play room and bathroom. Dammit.

Someone has jumped the queue for using the toilet, leaving tears and puddles in their wake. Dammit.

I'm going to have to find an even less offensive word for those times. Dammit.

condoms

DH went through all the condoms, sorting out the expired ones. He left the lone unexpired one out on the kitchen counter. DS wandered over.
What's this Mom?
Well, you can read, what does it say?
It says unlubicked condor. WHat's an unlubicked condor?
Unlubricated condom. It goes over a man's penis to prevent pregnancy and the spread of STD's.
OK. Thanks, Mom.
and he wandered off. He'll be 7 in a month and a half.
I am so looking forward to the sex talk with him!