Daycare is not raising my kids

I recently had a conversation with someone about the work decision mothers face when maternity leave is coming to a close. The phrase "but do you really want someone else raising your kids" was casually thrown out in reference to making the choice whether or not to send children to daycare. I quickly retorted that daycare is not raising my children; that I am raising my children.

But it stuck with me. For a long time. A really long time.

Because what that statement, that very commonly used statement implies, is that by sending my children to daycare, I am not raising them. And that my friends, is bullshit.

Daycare is an amazing place and this post is not intended to diminish the roles those kind, strong, smart women play in my village. Because that's what this is - a village. Daycare is one part of my village which is made up of grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, parents of friends, and neighbours. These are all the people who are helping me to raise our children.

Can we just stop? Stop saying that sending children to daycare is having someone else raise them. I am waking up with my kids in the middle of the night when someone throws up. My husband is calming nightmares, braiding hair and matching cardigans to dresses like nobody's business. We are doing crafts with them on the weekend, talking about days over dinner, and wiping snotty noses all the damned time.

We are raising our children.

The decision to return to work is not an easy one for many mothers. The schedule is daunting, dinnertime is horrific (for me at least), and when you're at work all you can think is,

"Are the kids okay?
I'm sure the kids are good.
I need to focus on work!
I missed my job.
Mmmmm hot coffee.
Oh god, is that daycare calling?
Did someone throw up?
I hope she didn't bite someone (again)."

And when you add into the mix that people are judging you, thinking you're not raising your kids? It can become too much. It makes you question yourself, it makes you wonder. It makes me wonder. But then I remind myself that this is just an outdated idea. And that I don't need to worry about my kids.

Because between midnight - 9 a.m. they have their dad.*
Because between 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. they have the staff at daycare.
Because between 5 p.m. and midnight they have me and their dad.
Because on many weekends they have their Papa & Memere.
Because some nights they have their Nana, their Gramma or their favourite babysitter.
*(Let's be honest, he's the one getting up in the night whenever they wake up)

And the kids are alright.

~ H

Car time is me time

I'm a driver. In life, some people are drivers and some people are passengers. And an unfortunate few take the bus. Kidding! But me, I'm a driver. I love to drive anywhere, anytime. Suggest a shopping trip down to Bellingham and I'll almost always offer to drive. I'll offer, somewhat because I get carsick, but mainly because when I'm behind the wheel I am at home.

In college I was on a work term with a magazine which required me to do interviews all around the region. I was constantly heading out in my teal green Chrysler Sundance and driving for hours while navigating Alberta range roads. I loved it; it never got old. I spent my college years driving back and forth from B.C. to Alberta on summer breaks, either for moves or for visits.  To me, my happy place is cruising down a highway with the windows down, sunglasses on and some great tunes playing loud on the stereo.

And then I had kids.

Sometimes when we get into the car, I forget I have kids. The sun is out and M.I.A. comes on my playlist; the windows go down, the sunglasses come on and I'm cruising on Highway 7. And then a little voice yells over the rush of the wind, "MOM THE WIND IS HURTING MY EYES! MOM MY HAIR IS IN MY MOUTH! MOM, WHY IS SHE SINGING ABOUT BANGING ON THE DASHBOARD? MOM! MOM! MOM!" And I think for a moment, "I don't care if your eyes hurt! MOMMY IS HAVING A MOMENT!"

But of course, I sigh and roll up the windows immediately. I change M.I.A. to RAFFI and remind myself that "bitch" probably isn't on the word learning list at daycare. Mind you, my music options didn't change for the first few years of having kids. I continued to listen to house music, rap and rock. And then The Babe started repeating "shut up and dance with me" and I thought to myself, perhaps 212 by Azealia Banks is not something I would like her to repeat in public. (Seriously that song has some nasty lyrics. Great beat. But nasty lyrics.)

As Slippery Fish replaces Bad Girls, I pass out more crackers. My car has become home to crackers in the door, gummies in the glove box, fruit in the console and is now a veritable crumb factory. For the first time since I bought my car, I just had it cleaned inside and I didn't even recognize it when I saw it afterwards. I strategically had it cleaned after driving the girls to a weekend at the grandparents' so that I could maximize on goldfish-free drives for the whole weekend.

Yes, the husband and I had a whole weekend to ourselves and it was glorious. We went to a late-night (read 9 p.m.) concert in the city, stayed in a hotel for the night, met up with friends for beers (read cider for me) and ate out. A lot. It was great to reconnect as a couple and to just be hands-free for a few days. This full-time work, two under 5, triathlon training schedule has got me beat. I'm actually supposed to be putting away a week's worth of laundry as I type this, but I needed to get a a new blog post out before 2017 rolled around. A weekend with the spouse is highly recommended if you can swing it. Some people said we looked like honeymooners with the holding hands by the end of the weekend.

And we spend most of the time driving around with the windows down, sunglasses on and the music on.

~ H

Tri Training

The last time we spoke I was talking about lunches. The time it takes, the good, the bad, and the ugly. This time I'm talking about training for a sprint triathlon and it's pretty much the same. Good, bad, and really ugly.

I've been so long between posting because in my spare time (ha!) I have been training for a sprint triathlon. Yes, I am crazy. Yes, I barely could manage things before this - between work, making lunches, a social life and a marriage and now I have added rigorous training for a somewhat grueling physical event in there. C to the R to the AZY. That's me.

But hear me out.

I was going to wait a few years before attempting this again. Yes, this is not my first attempt at training for a tri. I began tri training in the winter of 2010, but a little person called The Babe threw a wrench in my plans. Morning sickness and swimming just don't go together. So I shelved the plan until I had the baby, was done nursing, and had the time to commit to training. Then, just as I was rounding the bend of nursing and time management with The Babe, along came Baby Macaroni. I thought about my tri plans and told myself "someday, someday." I told myself, "there will come a time when I can dedicate the proper attention and dedication that an event like this needs."

This, by the way, is not that time.

But then the universe spoke, and it spoke in a way that is pretty hard to ignore. Part of the new job I have is FREE access to a rec facility ACROSS THE STREET from my office! FREE ACCESS TO A POOL! AND MORE THAN ONE STATIONARY BIKE!

I'll stop using all caps now because you get the point.

I would be crazy not to do the event this year given my unprecedented access to fitness facilities. This may also be the only time in my life I have a colleague in the office next door who will run 5k with me on our lunch break. This may be the only time I have a friend who is not only crazy enough to sign up with me, but will also spend hours on the weekend doing brick workouts (a bike ride followed immediately by a run, or a swim followed by a bike ride). Someone who not only trains with me, but pushes me to be faster, stronger, better.

I have all the pieces, and strangely enough, I'm finding the time. Am I sacrificing things? Of course I am!

I am sacrificing lunch breaks that I could be spending running errands, eating with friends, or catching up on work. I'm sacrificing time with my husband in the evenings when I am out running or swimming. I'm away from The Babe and not putting her to bed on the nights I am training. I'm not with the whole family when I am training on the weekends. My other hobbies such as reading, sewing, watching TV have gone by the wayside. I don't have much spare time to see friends.

But I'm doing it. Because I want to. I think I'm happier because of it. Having a goal gives me more purpose than I had before. A nervous energy courses through my body when I think about the race. I'm excited to have my family there watching me do it. My fitness has obviously never been better. I'm also anxious to have the race be finished and not die in the process (seriously, I could die. It happens, right?)

Is it hard? YES. My legs hurt pretty much all the time. (But that could have been due to my bike not being properly set up.) I'm hungry all the time but I haven't really figured out a proper meal plan. Which means I can often be found scarfing down a post-run donut and thinking the carbs are a good thing. I'm really tired every night by 9 p.m. Like falling asleep sitting up in bed tired. And people at work have started calling me Superman because I dash around the office at lunch time in my clothes - workout gear - clothes before getting back to afternoon meetings.

I couldn't do all this if I didn't have the support of my husband. He puts The Babe to bed when I go train. He takes care of the kids when I do brick workouts on the weekends. He eats whatever random food I am cooking that week (meatless, paleo, day 4 of leftover pork roast in a new and creative way). He tells me he is proud of me.

So I am doing it. I'm headed Up the Creek (without a paddle) in early May and I can't wait!

To be finished ;)

(Photo borrowed with permission from my training partner Michelle)

~ H

Neverending lunches

Sorry to be so long between posts but I have been making lunches every free moment of my day.

Okay, not really. But kind of.

We are almost three months into my return to work and it has been an interesting ride to say the least. We are adjusting, but I wouldn't say we have adjusted completely.

Back to the lunches. I forgot about the lunches. I forgot about coming home, making dinner, putting one kid to bed, cleaning some dishes, putting the other kid to bed, finishing the dishes and finally thinking you can sit down with a glass of wine or a mug of tea and pop on an old episode of Grey's Anatomy but then those pink canvas boxes creep into the corner of your eye as you turn and you let out a curse because darn it all if you don't have a damned thing to put them tonight.

Seriously.

I run out of bread mid-week. I cannot find anything to give Baby Macaroni so I fill her bento box with frozen peas and frozen corn and cubes of cheese and pray that she eats it. I plan ahead and spend my Sunday slaving over the stove to make individual muffin sized portions of macaroni and cheese and cheese stuffed meatloaf, only to have Baby Macaroni eat none of it at lunch.

At least, however, I am now remembering to make the lunches consistently. The first week back when we had a transition schedule, one of the daycare teachers kindly informed that they weren't sure if The Babe was staying the whole day because I had only packed her a cut up orange in her lunch bag. My face glowed with shame as I tried to laugh it off.

I think that making lunches is the bane of most parents' existence, am I right? Those crazy pastoral scene bento box lunches are fake, nobody actually makes those. Don't be ridiculous. I get fed up just slicing apples for my kids' lunches. I think I could make a million dollars if I invented a core-less apple with a peel that just slid off. Now all I need is an angel investor and perhaps a smidgen of knowledge about botany and I'm set!

Speaking of those bento box lunches, I just deleted the Pinterest app on phone. After another crockpot fail, with an expensive head of cauliflower to boot, I decided to kick my addiction cold turkey. I did it! You can too! I do miss those images of soft cookies and beautiful art, but I don't miss staring into the oven or crockpot and thinking "how the eff am I going to get them to eat that?"

Being back at work reminds me just how many errands I actually run and how little time there is to do them once you throw an 8-hour workday and a daycare pickup in there. And I don't even have to drop the kids off the morning, my husband handles that thankless task. We have streamlined our mornings somewhat though. The Babe gets to pick her outfit the night before, with assistance from me. I make a big batch of oatmeal on Sunday or overnight in the crockpot, so that both the girls have breakfast for the week. I'm crossing my fingers that translates into no more Cheerios in Mommy's bed, but I don't believe in miracles.

Having Christmas in there so soon into my return kind of threw us all for a loop. While the days off together were great, the comedown in the first week back at work and daycare was brutal. It was as though we completely forgot everything we had learned and practiced in December. There were many lunches that again consisted of crackers and cheese and frozen verggies.

But here we are mid-January and it's Sunday and I have just managed to cut up four apples, four oranges and make soup that will serve as tonight's dinner and tomorrow lunch. So I'm good. Unless The Babe and Baby Macaroni decide they don't like apples and oranges. If they do, they can make their own damned lunches.

~ H

Landing after the leap

Here we are, 5 months after my first post about taking the leap and leaving the workforce, and I am now about to re-enter the workforce. Next week I will begin training for a one-year full-time contract with a local municipality in their corporate communications department. But before I go into how I am feeling now, let's quickly revisit the last 5 months.

My maternity leave officially ended at the beginning of July and we spent the summer doing summer things. Going to the zoo and hitting up the local playground. A few visits to the nearby water park and a lot of swimming in our pool. So much swimming that The Babe is completely comfortable swimming underwater, yay! So so so much swimming that my hair turned green, not so yay. We visited family on Vancouver Island, spent time with the grandparents checking out the river and the horses near their place, and hanging out with various friends and all the cousins. Some days were fantastic and some were temper-tantruming terror, as it is with a toddler and a baby. It wasn't all sunshine and smiles, but it definitely was a lot of the time.

But as the summer wore on and the fall began and we moved into a new routine, I found myself missing the work. The contract work I have been doing just isn't the same. As a contractor you are not intimately involved in the company, you are on the outside and only privy to what directly affects the work you are responsible for. Which I found difficult. I missed the work culture. I was also struggling with the way I left the full-time work world. I wasn't finished. I always knew there was a large possibility of my leaving the workforce for a few years once we had our second child, but I wasn't where I thought I would be in my career when it was time to leave. The thoughts of leaving on that note, in that place, continued to nag at me.

When an opportunity came knocking at my door, I thought long and hard about how I have been feeling, what affect it will have on our family for me to go back to work for a year, where my priorities lie. I thought I was questioning myself a lot in June, when it turns out I have never questioned myself more than in the last two weeks.

I am excited to begin this new (short) chapter. The team I get to work with is one that I have worked with in the past and whom I respect immensely. The work will be busy and important and I will be a part of some major initiatives and events over the next year. And I love working in communications. The office is close to home and has some great benefits such as flex days which I will look forward to spending with the kiddos.

I am nervous about the transition for both the kids and for me. While The Babe has been in daycare before and will know a bunch of the kids from her time there before, Baby Macaroni still clings to me like a small koala to a bamboo tree. I am unsure how she will manage in daycare. She is not as independent as The Babe was at this age, but we never worried about socialization for Baby Macaroni because she has had The Babe to socialize with. I wonder how she will change by going to daycare and will I be okay with it?

I am unsure what will happen to the family dynamic once I am back at work. I know it's not something I can plan for, it will unfold on its own and I cannot control it. But in some ways, I do control it, with my actions.

I feel as though I have failed at being a stay-at-home mom because I want to go back to work. It didn't work out, as one well-meaing preschool mom asked me this week. But in the same breath I don't see the problem with wanting to work in a position I worked hard to get to AND be a mother at the same time. The scales are filling up with thoughts on either side, tipping from up to down to up again. My brain is tired and so is my heart.

Next week we begin our transition with the huge help of family and friends. I know there will be some tears, but I'm hoping there will be lots of smiles too.

~ H

Whole 30

"What was I thinking?" some of you have asked. There have been days I asked myself that same question. At the beginning of August I started the Whole 30, a "diet" which you do for 30 days (hence the name) and during which you avoid the following:

- dairy

- legumes

- grains

- sugar

- alcohol

- fun

The last one is not an actual part of the plan, but an addition by myself as a way to stick to the plan. Because going to a very fun birthday party on Day 10 where they are serving broccoli salad, cupcakes, wine and cheeseburgers is extremely hard. Excruciatingly hard. It certainly put my willpower to the test, as did the second birthday party the following day where there was a homemade peanut butter and jam ice cream cake with a peanut butter cookie crust. That's right, a peanut butter cookie crust! I ate a salad I brought from home that day, and died a little inside.

I did the Whole 30 for a few reasons. I finished nursing Baby Macaroni in the spring, however I still hadn't finished eating like I was nursing by mid-July. I was also feeling bloated all the time, and every time I saw a photo of myself I cringed. A friend had been talking about the Whole 30 over the past few months and I kept coming back to it. Checking it out on Instagram, reading the website, unable to shake my interest.

All of sudden I decided, "I'm doing this. Now." And I did. I borrowed the book from the same friend. I checked to see if my almond coconut was Whole 30 approved (it was, a rarity) and I have the most tempting sweets to my husband to hide from me. I did not purge the entire house of every sugary treat and carbohydrate. Other people have to live here too. I asked my husband if he would be on board for the dinners, which he agreed to. If I was cooking something a little more out there (spaghetti squash as noodles), then I also cooked regular pasta for everyone else. I stocked up on groceries and that was it - Day 1 on August 3rd.

Today is Day 30 and I have learned a lot about myself over the next 30 days, so I will sum it up in a paragraph or two ;)

I have strong strong willpower. Halfway through the 30 days we took a trip to Vancouver Island to visit family. I packed a cooler full of food for me, but one day we hit up a local beach and The Babe was sitting next to me eating a Kraft peanut butter sandwich on whole grain bread and I have never wanted to rip a sandwich out of someone's hands and devour it in two bites more than in that moment. There was also the aforementioned birthday parties. My husband sitting next to me in bed powering down a bag of Chicago mix popcorn had me almost tackling him for a sweet caramel kernel of goodness. But I drank my club soda and pure cranberry juice, munched on a few cashews and took deep breaths.

I have an amazingly supportive family. The same husband as above got up early one weekend, the weekend I was running an obstacle race with a team, and made me a Whole 30 compliant breakfast, right down to the cooking oil. He never complained about the lack of grains at dinner, and he is a carb guy. He told me he was proud of me. A lot. When travelling to visit my family, I told them about my diet and offered to make meals for everyone, not wanting to be a pain in the ass. To my pleasant surprise, not only were they supportive, they all planned meals I could eat during my whole trip. It was amazing, and definitely helped me to keep going.

I learned with enough protein and veggies and good fats, I don't need snacks in between meals. It was so interesting to get to 4pm and think, "oh! I can wait until dinner to eat!". This has not been the case prior to the Whole 30. I always thought I needed to eat small meals 6 times a day to keep my blood sugar up. Turns out, I just need to stay the eff away from Tim Horton's. Seriously, I can never go there again. That place is my kryptonite.

Lastly I learned that I can avoid alcohol for awhile but I definitely enjoy a beverage with friends and I also really miss sugar. I had two cheats over the 30 days and both were alcohol - one night it was two tall vodka sodas on a much needed Mom's night out and there was one post-obstacle race cider. But that was it! No other cheats! As for sugar, I have decided even though I have gone without for a month, coffee is still better with sugar. I will definitely be incorporating that back in. 

Want to know more? Wondering which recipes I am going to keep in the rotation? Just ask :)

Above: fried plantains from a recipe at Nom Nom Paleo. I love her site. 

Link: http://nomnompaleo.com/post/113854926293/fried-green-plantains-patacones-or-tostones

~ H

The dreaded toy purge

Ugh. I'm having a panic attack just thinking about it.

We have a boatload of toys in our house. Big toys, little toys, stuffies, McDonalds happy meal toys, musical instruments, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from the 80's, a dress up box, a play kitchen, a play workbench - the list goes on and on. Some of the toys are in a daily play rotation and some are collecting dust. But whenever I suggest to The Babe that we possibly give a few toys to other kids, I'm met with a resounding "Nooooooooooo" and tears. And so the clutter becomes more clutter, the toys begin to stack up, and I can feel the space shrinking by the minute. 

The thing is, not only does she not have a favourite toy, she also has an excellent memory. I pulled out a stuffed toy she had not put hands on for at least 6 months and as I put it in the donation pile, she began to cry and told her dad that I was giving away a very special gift someone had given her over a year ago. Seriously?!? How do you remember that, but not what you had for lunch today? The clutter problem is compounded by the fact that we have another child, also a girl, who may want to play with these toys in a year or so. So I go back and forth on what to keep and what to donate. Sometimes sneaking things out under the cover of night when The Babe is asleep and stealthily putting the boxes in the trunk to drop them off, where she cannot see them. 

I will say that our message to our family to buy our children less stuff has been heard. Recent holiday and birthday gifts have been more along the lines of memberships for activities, movie tickets and gift certificates. It's hard to give people ideas for non-stuff gifts. Clothes can be good, but only for the older one as the younger one has more than enough hand-me-downs. 

Back to the purge, sigh. How do we do it? We can tell her the old toys are helping other kids, but how do we show her where the toys go and how they can help? She's 3, not 10. Will she really understand? She doesn't understand why she should share with her sister, or why Annie's Bunnies cannot be eaten for every meal, so I'm not sure she will grasp the concept of service and goodwill.

Share with me your tips, tricks and funny stories about how you deal with the toy clutter and purge in your house.

~ H