Brotherly Love

As a parent routine is key. Of course there are benefits like predictability and comfort for the kids, but the real bonus is being able to save on parental brain-space. Since the big guy arrived, almost five years ago, I go about my days with less than my brain power at any given time. At times it is only moderately impaired, while at others it is fully disfunctional. This haze comes from the continuous combination of sleep deprivation, worry for the little ones' health and safety, education and enrichment, not to mention financial stresses of extra food, constantly shrinking clothing, quality daycare, and actually doing stuff (activities).

Routine is what keeps me operational. Our daycare routine is pretty well established. At pick-up time I grab the big guy, gather his clothes (coat, snowpants, boots, mitts, toque - heh it's Canada and it's winter) and his artwork (there is always some new masterpiece) and whatever else is accompanying us (really I wouldn't be surprised if one day it's a full sized elephant) and we head across the hall for his brother. As the little one, #MaxLoco, is only starting to communicate, it's easier to throw his scribbles in the garbage find another more deserving home for his objets d'arts, so really it's just getting his coat and him to the door.

Today, Senior Loco decided to switch it up. Rather than make a bee-line for the exit, as is normal practice, he thought it hilarious to run and hide. Up the ramp, down the ramp, around the ramp, behind the ramp. Whichever way I went, he'd lurk, lure me in and then take off. Being less than 100% (have I bemoaned this dreadful cold yet?) and loaded down with the big guy's all and sundries, I was reluctant to chase. OK. I flat out couldn't manage it.

It was time to dig into the parental toolbox, otherwise known as tactics that may scar for life but seem wholly appropriate at the time.

I went for it "See you later Max! We're leaving!" and I headed for the door. Too my surprise, it wasn't the little one who came running. His big brother abandoned his gentlemanly post holding the door open and rushed to the little one's side.

"Noooooo! We are not leaving Max behind!" he yelled and promptly burst into tears as he embraced the errant toddler in a bear hug.

So yes, I felt bad. And we were no closer to leaving daycare.

Lesson learned. Until next time.

And for those who were wondering, we did make it home, but I think I can skip a trip to the gym this week.

The Anatomy of a Meltdown

So at the little guy's birthday party we discovered he loves balloons. Adores them really. Unhealthily so. I mean he really loves them.

And he doesn't like it too much when they get taken away . . .

Life in a Zoo

There are only three of us in our little family. So how come our life is such a zoo? It feels like I just woke up and now I'm going to bed. The time in between is blurry. The words hectic, disaster and what-just-happened I think are accurate, but "zoo" is easier to say and remember, at least for my parenting brain.

The wee man has been asleep for three hours already and since he retired all I've managed to do is eat. Well at least that involved cleaning the kitchen, tidying up where he ate, cooking dinner, chasing a racoon out of the garbage, and watching all of three minutes of the Sweet Sixteen. And that was after he went to bed. Getting him home from daycare and getting him fed was the major challenge of the day.

Well thank you for small mercies. This week's comes in book form:


Thanks Mike, Janine and Grace for this wonderful book. The little guy adores opening the packages to see the different animals the zoo sends. He's going to have to make do, since there is no way we are adding any more real live animals to this one.

Standing, Standing, Crying

Dad and the little guy were home today for another sick day. He's almost better, not sure if the same thing can be said of Dad, but Dad still put in a solid effort of making the wee man feel better. There were good morning naps, great meals, and lots of fun playing, reading books and rocking out to some killer tunes. And then there are his new tricks.

The wee one has been working on his standing to the point where he's become a bit of a daredevil. One hand, one foot - no problem! Dancing and swaying - easy! Bouncing and dancing on one foot - where's the challenge? That is until we skip afternoon nap. Let's just say that despite his new found stability on two legs, gravity always wins.

Normally this isn't disastrous as he has a remarkable ability to land on the padded parts. Of course when the laws of baby-physics combine with the universal truths of Daddy-on-duty the results are often less than ideal. In this particular case the edge of the chair protruded just a bit too much. The little guy is okay, and I'm sure this will only be the first of many bumps, cuts and bruises, but it doesn't make Daddy feel any better. At least you're a tough little cookie.

Sick Days

We knew it was coming.

Da-dum

The moonlit ocean sparkling and twinkling.

Da-dum

A young couple laughing and frolicking on the beach

Da-dum, Da-dum

A late night dip.

Da-dum, Da-dum, Da-dum, DA-DUM!

We knew it was coming, but we didn't expect it to have such bite. Okay, so in our world there was no ocean, no young couple, no skinny-dpping and no big white shark, but there is daycare. And the diseases that lurk there. After only one week, the little guy has brought home a nasty cold. It's kept him home for the last couple of days.

He's passed the nasty bug on to Daddy (although mommy seems to be immune!) and it is a doozy. He's not sleeping well, he's got a terrible cough, his throat is sore and that's just Daddy - it seems even worse for the wee man. He still has his appetite, but everything else seems a bit off. Not nearly as much fun as a snow day. Hopefully we'll all feel better enough tomorrow to be back at it, but today is soup and naps. At least Daddy hopes he can squeeze one in.

That's all for now. The little is awake and is making a play for the keyboard . . .

Fuzzy Saturday

Well one week of daycare is over. Only another few hundred to go. On the plus side I don't think it can get much worse. The staff are great and when he lets himself, the little guy has tons of fun. It's just that he wants mommy and daddy to be there to share in the fun.

Well the daycare staff called it. Not only is he disrupted at daycare, but he's bringing his dissatisfaction home. Last night he was late to bed and early to wake, again and again and again and one more time. From the haze I think he was up at 2:30, 3:15, 3:50 and 4:30. I'm pretty sure he was up at 5:30 too, but by then I'd lost count and the ability to tell time. What happened to your twelve-hour sleeps, little man?

Thankfully the weather is terrible today. I have no guilt in doing nothing but drink espressos and watch March Madness. We should probably go for a walk before the monster destroys the house. See little one? Daycare is much more fun than Mom and Dad.

Hunger Strike

Today's early wake-up set the tone for a day and a week that seems to be only getting worse (full disclosure: the little man has been a pretty good sleeper so losing 2-3 hours sleep a night for us is a big shock, especially when it's Dad's first week back at work). Another tearful drop-off at daycare meant things weren't improving. So now, in his fourth day of real daycare, the little guy had perfected a repertoire of wailing, refusing to nap and reducing nighttime rest. So it was only natural that he decided to go all Ghandi on us. No, he didn't opt for pacifism, but to show everyone just how his rights were being violated he went on a hunger strike. Yeah, that feels great for parents. Your eleventh month-old has stopped eating because of something you are doing to him. Too bad it's so you can pay for his food in the first place.

By early afternoon, Dad had to make the trek back to the daycare to see if I could coax some food into him. We managed (yes two daycare workers - professionals no less!- and his dad) to get some lunch into him. Okay he turned his nose up at the tofu, but I sort of approve of that. After eating a bit his mood improved drastically (the apple does not fall far from the tree - just ask my wife) and I used the opportunity to pull the one of the most underhanded parenting tricks in the non-existent book - I snuck out. Well, it seemed to work. I didn't get another call from the daycare for the rest of the day. Okay so I still picked him up early, but I'm writing this blog so I'm calling it progress.

We had some fun at home - wrestling, making a mess, laughing for no reason. When mommy got home we all went to the park for a little fun in the sun (Canadians really can't pass up 18C weather in March!). He didn't last long, but it was enough. He crashed when we got home but at least he is asleep now. Oh, he'll be up soon - he still hasn't had any bottle, but Dad is taking advantage of the quiet to enjoy a nice gin 'n tonic before I throw the steaks on the old BBQ.







Fingers crossed for Friday.

Baby Wake-up Call

I think ours was broken this morning as it went off at 5:00 and really wouldnt stop for an hour. And boy was it loud. If there was a front desk, I would have called and complained. Maybe our neighbours did. The child screaming somehow has a multiplier effect on time that make it stand still. Just one more piece of a week that has been "rough" at best. Will share more later, after I get a coffee and try to feel somewhat like a human being again. Yes a parent, but a human one all the same.

Daycare Daycare Daycare

So Oliver started Daycare officially this week. That means Dad is back at work. Yes, the 9 to 5. Rat Race. Paper pushing. There are other names too, but I'll leave those to the imagination (some of them are positive, you pessimists!) I'm commuting by car now too. Means no more zoning out on the subway listening to music and playing Uno on my iPhone. At least I get to chat with the little guy on the way in. He babbles away contentedly from the backseat.

Day 1 went quite well, except he didn't nap much. He did enjoy his soup and his cream cheese sandwich. Anything cheese this kid.

Day 2 - not so great. I had to head back an hour after I dropped him off to help console the little fellow. Good thing my office is only two blocks from the daycare. He had another bit of a meltdown in the afternoon but thankfully went down for a two and a half hour nap. I think the daycare staff were thankful. Too bad Dad didn't get one of those today.

Wee man seemed pleased as punch when I got him home so I started to think that he was just unhappy about being abandoned. But his fussiness quickly returned and a glance inside his mouth revealed white gums. Looks like teething is on again. Can't he just make-do with the eight he has, at least for the time being? At least he fell asleep quickly - all tuckered out. Not sure if was the daycare activities or the wailing which finished him, but either way he had nothing left in the tank.

Tomorrow's hump day and then it's coasting downhill from there. At least we can hope. March Madness starts this week too. Maybe the little guy can bring the good luck he brought to my Olympic viewing (did I mention I saw 13 of Canada's 14 Gold medals live?) to my bracket. Papa could use a brand new bag.

Daycare Transition - Day 4

When he awoke this morning, the little man was very excited. He couldn't wait to get to daycare. He was looking forward to seeing his little friends, having fun with all the fun activities and eating yummy meals. Mommy visited yesterday and was impressed by the veggie lasagna and how well the little man sat in his chair at the table.

Although we were ready for a bit of a rougher day given it would be his longest yet and he was also supposed to have his first real nap today. The morning passed uneventfully as Daddy hovered nearby ready to swoop in if the phone rang. It didn't. Around 2:30, Daddy had run out of errands to run and had drunk enough coffees, so he was cooling his heels reading a book in the main lobby. All of a sudden the fire alarm sounded. Daddy packed up his bag, put on his coat and walked down the hall to the daycare. By the time he had arrived, the little people had already been rounded up and were on their way out the door. Unfortunately for Oliver, he had just gone down for his big nap only to be so rudely awakened. Dad was impressed with the evacuation which we later learned was due to an explosion in the parking garage! Everything was quickly brought under control with no damage or lasting effects.

I wonder if tomorrow will be as exciting?