tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7901444206189213282024-03-13T00:49:45.233-04:00Her Best MumMy ongoing effort to be the best Mum I can be to my 2 girls.Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-90423110293799989412011-03-06T18:32:00.003-05:002011-03-06T18:37:21.702-05:00Git Er DoneI wanted to put the groceries away today. I wanted to know where each item was so that when I needed to grab an item to make dinner I knew exactly where it would be. Rob asked me to make sure that I cleaned out the fridge. He wanted me to take out anything expired or clearly not going to get eaten. He reminded me to green bin the food and rinse off the containers before washing or recycling. <br />
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All I heard was 'clean the fridge'.<br />
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I mentioned the OCD before, (I actually prefer CDO, it's alphabetical, the way it should be) so when I hear clean out the fridge it means something totally different in my head. <br />
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No, Rob has not learned how to take advantage of this particular quirk yet.<br />
<br />
A hour later the food is still out of the fridge and I am cleaning each bar of each shelving rack. I have scrubbed the top, sides, bottom, and spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how to remove the crisper drawer assembly so that I can clean that too. <br />
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He can't figure out why I am not done yet. This should have been a 15 minute job at most. It's that line I can't walk between "git er done" and "git er done right". There is no in-between for me. I can put the food away or I can clean the fridge. <br />
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Sadly for my family I generally suck at housekeeping. Rob doesn't understand how I can step over the same shirt on the floor for a week and look surprised when he explodes and shows it to me lying there. I really didn't see it. I really don't see the messes that the kids leave all around the house. I really don't see the wrinkles in the fabric. <br />
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But when I do I can't stop. I can't just tidy the toys, I need to organize them by function, colour, shape, season, who bought them. I can't just sweep the floors because I end up in the corner picking individual pieces of dirt that I can't seem to vacuum up. I can't just clean the bathroom because I end up standing in then tub with my toothbrush cleaning grout lines. <br />
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I guess my coping strategy is to just not see it. That does not make me very easy to live with (or easy to work with if you have seen my classroom!). <br />
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There must be a balance. I just can't see it.Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-13531820185487237242011-03-05T11:54:00.000-05:002011-03-05T11:54:20.767-05:00You Might Not Want to Read ThisThis year both girls are at the same daycare. I can't express to you how this has helped our lives. Last year it took me 2 hours to pick up the girls and get them home. This year I can do it in 20 minutes. Well I could if they wanted to leave the daycare when I did!<br />
<div>We have also watched J start to read and lose 2 teeth. We have watched C work hard at her speech therapy and thrive in her daycare class. We have also watched her hallucinate with a high fever, have pneumonia, ear infections, colds and coughs. </div><div>None of that compares to the story I was told yesterday.</div><div>A little boy complained of a tummy ache and stayed home from school. Mom called the doctor and was told to watch him, but not to worry. That night he sat on the couch between his mom and dad. When his little head slumped over in sleep they got him ready to move to bed. </div><div>Only he wasn't sleeping. </div><div>How does that happen? He was sitting between his parents. They were right there. </div><div>It turned out that he had a bowel obstruction that had burst that morning. He should have been screaming in pain. He should have been crying all day and holding his belly. He should not have been able to sit calmly on the couch with his parents watching television.</div><div>I can't shake this story. I am sorry I wrote it because it might mean that you can't shake it either. On the other hand I can't sleep. I can't stop worrying about my kids. When J told me this morning that her tummy was grumbling and a little sore it was all I could do to not grab the phone and call 911 while my sane brain assured me she was just looking for breakfast.<br />
I struggle with OCD and one of my preferred Os is about my kids well being, health and development. This is going to be a challenge to all of my coping strategies. Any suggestions?<br />
<br />
P.S. I really miss writing and wish I would have posted all the entries I have written in my head but never got a chance to type. I am not really ok with C watching television so that I can try to expel this thought demon but it bought me 20 minutes!!</div><div><br />
</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-17686358662389814572009-11-26T22:33:00.000-05:002009-11-26T22:33:32.789-05:00And So It BeginsI knew that when Jill started school she wouldn't just be bringing home stories of her daily adventures. There would be new germs, new friends, and new words.<br />
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I just wasn't as prepared as I thought I was for the new words.<br />
<br />
Since starting daycare and school she has taken to kicking me out of the family. She is no longer my friend, and yesterday I was told that I could live in the bushes all by myself because I was making such naughty choices.<br />
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Then she said she was going to kill me.<br />
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Apparently that is my line. I only knew it once she had crossed it.<br />
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After I regained some control over myself I talked to her about that.<br />
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Yup, she understands what dead means. Kind of.<br />
<br />
She tells me that the bad pirates at school say those words.<br />
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The bad pirates, it turns out are some of the boys in her class who spend a part of their outdoor time trying to get the kitties and the babies. Sometimes they are good pirates who are protecting the kittens and babies, but most of the time they are bad pirates.<br />
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I learn from my daughter that when you are being bad, those are the things you say, just like the pirates.<br />
<br />
Why oh why is she so literal?<br />
<br />
One phone conversation with the teacher later I hope to hear less about the bad pirates and more about the good pirates.<br />
<br />
And never to hear those words come out of my babies mouth again.Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-81570529188317690852009-10-26T21:36:00.000-04:002009-10-26T21:36:20.615-04:00Mommy's NumbersBefore I had kids I liked to do ... stuff. Go to movies, read books, play video games. Stuff.<br />
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I still like video games. I have a Nintendo DS.<br />
<br />
Well this is actually my second. The first one I had was proudly delivered dripping wet to me about a year ago by a beaming little girl who announced "Mommy, I washed your numbers!".<br />
<br />
I got new numbers the next Christmas.<br />
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These stay away from all water sources.<br />
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Jillian named them numbers because the games she always watched me play had numbers flashing across the screen.<br />
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I also have a game called letters, one called Luke, another called cards. You get the idea.<br />
<br />
Jillian has her own games to play on my numbers. Pony numbers and Wally numbers.<br />
<br />
Neither game has any numbers in it.<br />
<br />
Caitie associates sleep with my DS. This could be because when I put her to sleep I place her in her crib and then I sit on the floor while she goes to sleep. It started as part of the "No Cry Sleep Solution" where you slowly move yourself out the door over a few nights.<br />
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I needed something to do while I waited for Cait to sleep and for me to slowly inch my way out of her room.<br />
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I started to bring my numbers to play while I sat. Now Cait associates the glow off the screen as a soothing sleep aid.<br />
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I need to play my games or Cait can't go to sleep. See? It isn't my choice!<br />
<br />
I probably don't need to sit in her room anymore while she goes to sleep.<br />
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But I do need to play my numbers so I will stay with her for a little while longer.Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-67809832218404333732009-10-23T18:39:00.000-04:002009-10-23T18:39:42.389-04:00The Trouble with LifeThe trouble with life is that it just keeps happening.<br />
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It never slows down when you want to savour the moment or speed up when you need a moment to be over.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden I look and I haven't written anything in a month. How did that happen?<br />
<br />
Well there was work. And Cait was sick with croupe. And there was work. And Jill's ballet started. And I got a cold. And there was work. And Rob had that business trip thing. And there are only a few hours each night to be together before collapsing in bed.<br />
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That is all fine, but this was supposed to be my thing. My thing that made sure I took time out to just reflect and be still. <br />
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I do solemnly swear to try to make time for me.<br />
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Let's see how that goes!!Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-40132645533122184402009-09-24T23:19:00.000-04:002009-09-24T23:19:23.347-04:00My New PlanAmong the reasons I love Facebook are the ideas that get shared.<br />
<br />
A friend from University updated her status by saying that she was making tomorrow night's dinner far to late in the evening.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow night's dinner.<br />
<br />
Revolutionary idea!!<br />
<br />
I tried it. It was great!<br />
<br />
I made a stew and when I got home (okay when my SIL got here because I was so late) the pot of stew was put on the oven to heat and ... boom! dinner is served.<br />
<br />
I am going to try this more often. Make a sauce in the evening, cook the pasta when I get home.<br />
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Cook the chicken in the evening, steam the veg when I get home.<br />
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It puts a smile on my face just thinking about it.<br />
<br />
:)Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-27396635597295990682009-09-19T22:46:00.000-04:002009-09-19T22:46:11.992-04:00Apple PickingWe took the kids to an apple orchard today.<br />
<br />
The same apple orchard that my parents took me to when I was their age.<br />
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We went with my brother and his family. Our kids are all the same age and I just love spending time with them, as it is rare and precious.<br />
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Jill has been excited about this trip all week (about the maximum amount of lead time I will give her for an event of this nature!). She was buzzing the whole time. There wasn't a single part that she didn't think was the greatest thing ever. <br />
<br />
Watching her was the greatest thing ever.<br />
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She picked apples off the trees, let her uncle help her climb a ladder to pick one off the top, left the ones with holes in them for the caterpillars, and never stopped grinning.<br />
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She made a mental list of all the things we have to make with the apples that we picked. Pie, sauce, cake, crumble....<br />
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She picked an apple off the tree and ate it. Best apple ever.<br />
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Cait loved walking in the long grass. She let her daddy hold her up to the tree so she could pick an apple. I have no idea how many she ate. I do remember the sound of her laughter as she and Rob threw apples in a game of catch with the orchard dog. <br />
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Best game ever.<br />
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Jill played in the hay pile with on of her cousins while Cait discovered why you shouldn't eat cow corn with the other.<br />
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They both loved the corn maze and I loved the seriousness of the older kids as they protected us from bug-a-boos with their corn swords.<br />
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This will be a family tradtion, like it was when I was growing up. <br />
<br />
I have no idea what I am going to do with 10 pounds of apples.<br />
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I don't care though. I was ready to pick 30 just to keep watching the kids today.<br />
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Any one want pie?Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-29774645488768349842009-09-16T22:56:00.000-04:002009-09-16T22:56:03.537-04:00Nuckin FutsJillian is going to an alternative school.<br />
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I don't think I am an alternative mom.<br />
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We had our first parents meeting at the school tonight. I just don't get it. I want the same things for my kid, really I do, but I just want it without all the granola.<br />
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I promised the principal I would stick it out. I don't mean by keeping Jill in the school longer, I am comfortable with her in the school. I mean me being involved.<br />
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She is looking for parents to support the 'other' view of alternative education. Not the view that thinks their kids are at a free private school.<br />
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That is a big view to support. I will do it because I want the school to succeed and grow. I know of families who pulled their children out at the last minute because of the overwhelming attitude of some of the parents.<br />
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I believe one family referred to it as the 'freak show'. I didn't argue.<br />
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As long as this is the right place for Jill it will be the right place for me. If her needs change .....Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-78066045270926272592009-09-12T19:20:00.001-04:002009-09-12T19:20:55.524-04:00One DownI just finished my first week back at work. <br />
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<div></div><div>My biggest struggle has been dinner. I was a huge fan of my slow-cooker .... until it broke.<br />
</div><div></div><div>Now I am a huge fan of anything quick. On the advice of a loving aunt I am going to try some frozen dinners. They heat up quick, are portion controlled and more healthy than most of the other things I can choose for a quick meal (like ordering in, or picking up at a drive-through).<br />
</div><div></div><div>I am sure I will get it under control as the year goes on. </div><br />
If it wasn't so hard to find something we could all eat (see previous posts) then it might be ok, but I can't make noodles and sauce every night, I will go nuts.<br />
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I am going to have to menu plan. I am not good at planning. I am not good at menus.<br />
<br />
I look in the cupboards and figure something out. Tonight, for instance, was rice casserole. Brown rice, frozen veggies, can soup sauce and cheese. The only problem with that on a school night is it took 50 minutes to cook - 20 for the rice and 30 in the oven.<br />
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As far as I am concerned at the moment pizza is the perfect meal. Bread, veggies, meat, cheese. As happy as that would make me to have pizza every night for dinner, I am not sure what the Ministry of Health would have to say.<br />
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Yes I am. They don't like that idea.Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-14786453263826895482009-09-09T18:18:00.003-04:002009-09-09T18:40:52.923-04:00Where on Earth?Jill was an easy toddler in some ways. Because she is actually 35 and only living in the body of a small child, she understood certain rules seemingly without effort. Only with Cait do I realize that that was not completely normal.<div><br /></div><div>Cait puts things in her facial orifices. I have found banana stickers in her ears, pencils being stuck up her nose, and you name it in her mouth. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is the mouth one that bothers me the most.</div><div><br /></div><div>If it is small she has put it in her mouth. What really gets me is how much stuff have I missed? How many tiny princess shoes have I not fished out? How much money is sitting in her belly? </div><div><br /></div><div>I started to write this because I had to fish another penny out of her mouth. I don't know where she finds them. Maybe she goes digging in the couch cushions for stuff to munch on. As I was typing I noticed though that she was being unusually quiet. I asked her what was in her mouth and she took off down the hall at top speed. I was finally able to dig a piece of cardboard out of her. Where on earth did she find that? I don't see anything with a bite missing from it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jill never did this. We told her that mouths were for food and that was it. We told her toilets were for pee and poop and toilet paper and that was it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, you know where I am going with this :)</div><div><br /></div><div>So far we have been able to catch her in time and we make a habit of keeping all doors closed, but we have come close to finding all sorts of what-not floating in the toilet. Any suggestions? Any one else go through a 'can I flush it down the toilet' phase?</div><div><br /></div><div>She keeps us on our toes. And looking up her nose.</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-62290767553013245112009-09-05T20:26:00.003-04:002009-09-05T21:13:23.258-04:00Borrow ToysA while ago I hinted that our place was overrun with toys. It wasn't an exaggeration. Quite the contrary.<div><br /></div><div>When Jill was 9 months old a television show came and did a living room makeover for us. Why? Too much kid clutter.</div><div><br /></div><div>Times that by 3 years and 2 kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are blessed. Truly. Our children want for nothing. It is exactly what Rob and I wanted when we talked about having kids. It was also the running thought during many a hard decision that we had to make. We wanted to be able to give our kids everything they needed, as well as a good chunk of what they wanted.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the ways I thought to do that was by applying to be a toy testing family for a national parenting magazine.</div><div><br /></div><div>We were accepted and from the time Jillian was 6 months old we have been receiving and testing toys a couple of times a year.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since my immediate family has moved back to Ottawa our toy schedule has increased a bit.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is great. We get as many (or as few) toys as I feel we can reasonably test in a three month period. There is paperwork to be done, but that is a minor piece for me. Quite a major one for the woman whose job it is to oversee all of this, collect the data, analyze it all and make the toy recommendations, but for me, it is a small piece.</div><div><br /></div><div>The girls get to test new toys. Some aren't even available at toy stores yet. It is all geared to the Christmas toy shopping spree and the magazines articles about the year's best toys.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's pretty cool.</div><div><br /></div><div>This year we tested 35 toys. We live in shoe box of a condo. Some of the toys were quite large. That is why this is quickly becoming one of my favourite times of the year.</div><div><br /></div><div>Donation time.</div><div><br /></div><div>The catch to being a testing family is that you have to commit to donating all of the toys to charity once the testing period is over. That is the highlight for me. The girls get to play with great new toys, then they learn lessons on charity and giving.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right now I make all the choices about where the toys will be donated to. My hope is that as they get older they will start to make the choices. For now, they come with me for drop-offs because I want them to see where the toys are going and who they are helping.</div><div><br /></div><div>That is why we call them 'borrow toys'. We are just borrowing them to play with for a bit until they go to their real homes. </div><div><br /></div><div>We just did a day of donation drop-offs. </div><div><br /></div><div>Our place looks great! We not only took this years testing toys, but all of the baby toys that Cait has outgrown. It didn't just make a dent, it made a canyon.</div><div><br /></div><div>A canyon that was quickly filled by other toys, but at least they aren't all over the living room anymore. They are all put away. </div><div><br /></div><div>All but 2 boxes, one for Jill and one for Cait.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's see how long we can keep it this way!</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-61182310438001006032009-09-03T19:55:00.002-04:002009-09-03T19:56:00.152-04:00I have a tummy ache.<div><br /></div><div>Cait is slowly (very slowly) adjusting to daycare.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jill is in her element.</div><div><br /></div><div>Off to sleep and I hope to feel better tomorrow.</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-79004995987863753622009-09-01T20:50:00.002-04:002009-09-01T21:02:18.903-04:00Just What I ThoughtI really like being back at work.<div><br /></div><div>Ok, so I bawled my eyes out this morning when I dropped Cait off. I cried again when I told Rob about it. And again when I picked her up and heard she had a rough day.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I really like being back at work.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jill is doing great, she is a daycare superstar. She started with full days and loves it. She asked me today if I would pick her up a bit later then yesterday so she wouldn't miss free play and snack. She has even made a new friend.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't worry about how Jill is doing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I worry about Cait though. </div><div><br /></div><div>Through the worry and pride I really like being back at work.</div><div><br /></div><div>I like organizing the paperwork and labelling the books. I like sorting the toys and setting up the centres. I like talking with my colleagues. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have been doing a lot of that last one!</div><div><br /></div><div>I know that Cait will settle in. I know that Jill might have some rough patches.</div><div><br /></div><div>Same for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ask me again next week if I still like being back. I have only gone 2 days, I think I might still be in the honeymoon phase!</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-61001516410470986502009-08-30T21:30:00.004-04:002009-08-30T21:48:23.826-04:00Back to BusinessSo after 17 months of being at home I am going back to work tomorrow. <div><br /></div><div>We went back to school shopping today (well school shopping for Jill seeing as this is her first time going to school). Apparently Jill grew 3 feet over the summer because any pants that fit her in June are now <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">culottes and her belly is poking out of every shirt she owns.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>It may not surprise you to know that Jill is very particular about the clothes she wears. </div><div><br /></div><div>She doesn't like pockets, she won't wear any pocket-pants. She doesn't like certain colours. She doesn't like certain fabrics.</div><div><br /></div><div>She likes what she likes. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Fortunately</span> we found a lot of things she likes. The only contentious piece is the fall coat that I picked out for her. She rightly informed me that just because I like it doesn't mean she will.</div><div><br /></div><div>She'll wear it. She'll have to, it's going to get cold.</div><div><br /></div><div>I got a new coat too. And some shirts. I am happy!</div><div><br /></div><div>Jill decided that the dress we got today would be her new 'brave dress'. Her current brave dress is a pink dress that doesn't fit her. The spaghetti straps have fallen off and are poorly tied together. She has to wear a shirt and pants under it if she wants to leave the house.</div><div><br /></div><div>She wears this dress whenever she is feeling anxious about something and needs to be brave. She wore to her first day of camp. She wore it to the doctor. She wore it to a first <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">play date</span> with a new friend. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some kids have blankets, mine has a dress.</div><div><br /></div><div>So we got a new brave dress. It is sitting on her shelf all ready for tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow she is going to daycare for the first time. I was going to transition her in slowly, like I am with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Cait</span>. Jill looked at me funny and asked "Why?". She pointed out that we didn't transition to summer camp, or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pre</span>-school, or anything else. She just wants to start daycare and be done with it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I told her that we would all take Friday off and be together for the day. She thought about that and then asked if she could go to daycare instead. Even at 4 she seems to know herself better than most adults do. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will take her to daycare on Friday because the day at home is really for me. I want one last day home with my kids before everything changes. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am proud of Jill that she knows what is best for her. She does do better in a program. She thrives on routine. She beams for circle time. She is going to do great.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think I need a brave shirt ('cause I don't wear dresses). I am only needing to be brave about going back to work having the girls in daycare, but that's enough.</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-53646904739335750872009-08-28T19:57:00.005-04:002009-08-28T22:38:08.566-04:00The Big Decisions<div style="text-align: left;">Grilled steak or mini-burgers?</div><div><br /></div><div>That is my big decision right now. </div><div><br /></div><div>Life is good. If that is the biggest thing I have to worry about then that 'aint too bad!</div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow I am hosting Wine Club (this month's theme: food pairings) for the first time at my place and I don't know what to make to pair with the Grenache that I chose. </div><div><br /></div><div>I decided to make some tapas to go with the Rose we will be starting with, but I'm just not sure about my main.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jill is super excited. She had me make a sign for the door that says "Ladybug Butterfly Restaurant". She is so excited for all the ladies to come over (all 4 of them!). I believe she has a fancy dress party dress all picked out. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xH60igtjAOc/Sphxtm1ap8I/AAAAAAAABHQ/IUgA2e5JPUc/s320/IMG_2968%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375171183599331266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div>This evening we had a conversation (when she should have been sleeping) about making menus for our guests. Chef Flower (Jill) was telling me, Chef Hummingbird, that Sous Chef Texas Pete (Rob) couldn't tuck her in because we hadn't finished making decisions about the menus yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think she is looking forward to this.</div><div><br /></div><div>Having a group of (relative) strangers coming over for a dinner party has given us the excuse we needed to start purging. So much purging. I have already taken almost all of the Testing Toys and infant toys to school to be donated. That made quite a large dent. I went through boxes of stuff that were piled in the corner of our room and found the special children's books I had set aside before Jill was born to keep them safe. That was almost 5 years ago. At least I found them!</div><div><br /></div><div>I found notebooks from University. The notes weren't all that interesting, but the doodles in the margins make quite the commentary on my mental state 11 years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>I found all sorts of what-not that I remember feeling very strongly about keeping at that time. I don't remember why I felt that way though. So I threw most of it out.</div><div><br /></div><div>It felt good. </div><div><br /></div><div>We are also moving the kids toys out of the living room so we can pretend that your lives don't normally look like a Toys R Us that just got hit by a tornado. </div><div><br /></div><div>I looks good.</div><div><br /></div><div>It will all get moved back soon enough, but that's ok with me. Talk to Rob, he might feel different about it!</div><div><br /></div><div>Grilled steak. </div><div><br /></div><div>There, nothing left to decide!</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-41842481323671487382009-08-27T15:28:00.003-04:002009-08-27T17:46:16.769-04:00The Whole StoryMy children took some work and intervention to be here. There were teams of doctors, reams of needles, and lots of tears.<div><br /></div><div>Jillian's story is fairly uneventful. 4 cycles, 2 drugs, 1 miscarriage, and a beautiful baby girl. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cait's story is a tad more complex. Most of the time I don't think about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's a lie. </div><div><br /></div><div>I live it every day. It just doesn't always bubble up to the top.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cait fell on her head the other day (she's a climber) and we ended up taking her to the Kid's Clinic to get checked out. There was a terrible med student doing our visit. I didn't mind because at that point I knew that Cait was ok and in no danger of a closed head injury or concussion. I actually found the struggling resident a little amusing as she fumbled along with the exam.</div><div><br /></div><div>When the doctor came in for the consult she was told that "After an uneventful pregnancy, labour and delivery this 15 month old ..." </div><div><br /></div><div>That was when I started laughing.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was nothing uneventful about Cait's pregnancy. Labour and delivery were fine (C-section) but the post part was rough too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Do I have to tell Cait the whole story? We plan to tell her the highlights version when she is older, but not all the gritty details. Will this continue to be a vital part of her medical history? When will it cease to be important? Will she, as a woman, have to retell this story every time she meets with a new doctor?</div><div><br /></div><div>No one asks me what my marks were in kindergarten. They don't even want to know what they were in university. There comes a point where it just doesn't matter anymore. Does the same apply to birth stories?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-30782307141028087332009-08-25T21:21:00.002-04:002009-08-25T22:17:08.581-04:00Don't Mock MeI like reality TV.<div><br /></div><div>There I admitted it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been known to watch entire episodes (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span> fine, seasons) of Survivor, The Hills, Hells Kitchen, the Amazing Race, ...</div><div><br /></div><div>Like you don't watch them too.</div><div><br /></div><div>They are like my soap operas. An alternate reality so foreign from my own that I can't help but become totally absorbed.</div><div><br /></div><div>When reality TV first hit the airwaves (although you can argue that it has been a part of the television medium since the first signal was broadcast) I actually called Rob from an airplane to make sure that the VCR was set to record Survivor. Who does that?</div><div><br /></div><div>My viewing has been greatly diminished since the arrival of Jill and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Cait</span>, but I just can't seem to help myself from sneaking away to get a dose of it. This evening I left Rob with both girls so that I could watch Chef Ramsey hurl insults at contestants and kick one off the show. I know that if I want to watch great chefs cook I could watch Top Chef, or even Iron Chef. But they lack a certain appeal. </div><div><br /></div><div>Call it the 'Jerry Springer Factor'.</div><div><br /></div><div>I try to have a moral compass for my viewing, but there seems to be a direct correlation between how trashy a concept is and how many people want to watch it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jill's school would like to do a Rose Ceremony (don't even get me started with Jill's school, I am sure there will be a rant or two to come) at the start of each year and all I could think of was the Bachelor. </div><div><br /></div><div>I much prefer the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Bachelorette</span>!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-91084320032488274982009-08-23T21:58:00.002-04:002009-08-23T22:13:38.166-04:00When Did That Happen?When you hold a new born baby they worm their little hands around until they find some skin, even just a tiny bit of it, that they can press their palm to. They are calmed and feel whole again.<div><br /></div><div>My girls seem to view my body as an extension of their own. And it is, that is how they started. One body became two, and then was one plus one.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cait still holds onto me like we are part of the same being. Jill doesn't.</div><div><br /></div><div>When did that happen?</div><div><br /></div><div>When did she start to realize that we are not pieces of the same whole? When did she start to see that she was whole unto herself?</div><div><br /></div><div>I know that it is just an illusion that we are separating. Lacan made a name for himself trying to explain how we are all fooled.</div><div><br /></div><div>So why does it make me feel so sad when I notice it? Why do I find myself in search of Ojbet Petit a?</div><div><br /></div><div>My pride at her growing up always seems to have the flip side of mourning the passing of what was.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love the age she is, but I miss the age she was.</div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't started this journey with Cait yet, but I know it is coming. </div><div><br /></div><div>Good thing they are such great kids and get more amazing each day!</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-45020872280727210372009-08-22T19:43:00.002-04:002009-08-22T19:55:34.792-04:00Great Hair Day<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xH60igtjAOc/SpCFKnJflnI/AAAAAAAABHI/0b4-XShwsIs/s1600-h/IMG_2697.JPG"></a>With all the humidity and heat my hair has been a frizz factory. It is hard to manage at the best of times, but I have no clue what to do with it in this weather.<div><br /></div><div>Jillian has never looked more radiant.</div><div><br /></div><div>She is the only person I know whose hair looks better in humid weather.</div><div><br /></div><div>They curls are tighter, it looks shinier, it bounces better. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xH60igtjAOc/SpCFKnJflnI/AAAAAAAABHI/0b4-XShwsIs/s320/IMG_2697.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372940772806989426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div>It's not fair.</div><div><br /></div><div>She's cute and she has great hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lucky kid!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-30203909891508019632009-08-20T22:40:00.002-04:002009-08-20T23:53:03.734-04:00Play DatesLet's start by being totally honest.<div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Play dates</span> are for me, not the kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh sure, the kids have a good time. They play and run and do all those things that little kids are supposed to do when playing with a friend. They trash the place with their toys. Remnants of snack are found in many little corners. They learn (sometimes very loudly) about sharing and cooperating. </div><div><br /></div><div>But most importantly I get to sit and talk to another adult. We watch the kids and play along for some of the time, but we also get to chat. Usually about our kids. But it is so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">therapeutic</span>. I have so much fun!</div><div><br /></div><div>This will change as the girls get older and start to have their friends over without parents. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now when I want to get together with a friend it is under the guise of a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">play date</span> for my kids. We meet at a park or at one of our homes. It is all about socializing our children ... ha! </div><div><br /></div><div>It is really all about socializing me :)</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-23718089674971089932009-08-19T17:58:00.006-04:002009-08-19T19:06:06.763-04:00BlissI was watching my girls playing at the beach today.<br /><br />As different as night and day, they both had such an amazing time.<br /><br />Jill tore right into the water, running at full speed into the waves squealing at the top of her lungs. She danced and jumped in the water, her smile leading her into each new crest.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Cait</span> scrunched her nose up at the water and toddled back up the beach to dig in the sand. As she played she noticed the way each grain of sand felt as it rolled onto her hand, foot, knee. When she did come to water she would not go any deeper than her toes. When the wave splashed up her leg she cried out and turned back up the beach.<br /><br />I loved seeing the joy in Jill's whole being as she dove and splashed in the water. She dug in the sand filling a bucket and turning it over to make a castle. Three seconds later she was tromping right through her castle a delighted giggle bursting from her.<br /><br />At these times I see her as still such a little girl. Her chubby little knees. Her belly that still holds a bit of its roundness. In these moments I think that maybe I expect too much from her. Behaviour that is still beyond what she can do.<br /><br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Cait</span> sat on my lap (she was not going any closer to the water than she had to be) and played with the muck. She was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fascinated</span> by how it moved and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">glooped</span> off the shovel. She needed to taste it (twice) and see what it felt like when it was rubbed on her arms, legs, face, belly.<br /><br />She is slow and methodical. She really takes the time to experience each new thing. She dug her toes into the sand and spent the longest time watching the water lap at her leg and swish the sand around her ankle. She tested pulling her foot out just a little and then sticking it back in the mud. I could see the sand moving above where her foot and I knew that she was feeling the sand and water squish through her toes.<br /><br />This is my idea of heaven. Sitting in the sun watching my daughters play and be themselves. Watching and sharing in the pure bliss of having fun.Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-66301540728113449842009-08-18T02:11:00.000-04:002009-08-18T02:12:38.095-04:00Sisters<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xH60igtjAOc/SopDsw8HGpI/AAAAAAAABGo/i3JAZ6KPQYU/s1600-h/IMG_2947%5B1%5D.jpg"></a>It is 2 am and I am in the midst of an "In The Night Garden" marathon with Cait. I don't know why she isn't sleeping. Her tooth broke through last night. She is full of Tylenol. It is late. She should be sleeping.<div><br /></div><div>Or at least I should be sleeping.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Earlier, while trying to settle her, she just kept calling for Gay-Gay and pointing to Jill's room. We tried to tell her that Jay-Jay was asleep.</div><div><br /></div><div>As we all should be.</div><div><br /></div><div>She was having none of it. She was awake and there was something of vital importance that she had to share with her sister.</div><div><br /></div><div>I believe this to be my favourite part about having 2 kids. They love each other.</div><div><br /></div><div>They really love each other. They want to see each other first thing in the morning. They love to make each other laugh. They like to hold hands while sitting in the car.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jill and Rob went out a few night ago. Cait started to cry. She was inconsolable. When she calmed down a bit all she could do was point at the door and call "Gay-Gay" over and over. She was upset that her sister had gone out and left her behind.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I pick Jill up from camp she gives me the biggest grin and then looks around me, trying to find Cait. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just had to pause from my typing because Cait was running full tilt down the hall toward Jill's room. I guess she wants her sister to watch the funny show too.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, I left Cait sitting in her armchair watching TV while I type a blog entry. Like I said, I try, but I am not always her best Mum.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xH60igtjAOc/SopDsw8HGpI/AAAAAAAABGo/i3JAZ6KPQYU/s320/IMG_2947%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371179941923068562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>I want my girls to grow up to be best friends. I know that they will have their rough patches. I can see the start of it now. "She touched my toy", Cait wailing because Jill is 'helping' her change locations.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I have every faith though, that in the end, this bond will hold them together. They will continue to want to share things with each other. They will continue to love each other.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now a message from Cait:</div><div><br /></div><div>bdhfhhasxxdx bn jgn jmjmmmmmmmdfj hngnm gm mffffffffffbhurj kjgjrhik3qa6vu5tdcjxi</div></div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-91593238041559706212009-08-16T12:35:00.004-04:002009-08-17T21:45:45.954-04:00Say Cheese!The great part about extended family is everyone spending time together and learning that they are a part of something bigger then just themselves and their nuclear family.<br /><br />The best part about having the youngest kids in the family is the ability to glean and learn from the more experienced parents. "Did So-and-So ever do this?" "Oh really, at about the same age?" "How long did the phase last?"<br /><br />We were trying to take a picture today of everyone in R's side of the family. The last time we had a chance to do this Cait wasn't here so this would be the first portrait of all the Ds.<br /><br />Jill refused to join in. She was adamant that she was not going to be photographed. She would stand behind everyone, but there was no way she was going to be seen.<br /><br />Amidst my mortification at her blunt refusal to be a part of this special picture was the memory of my nephew doing something very similar at about the same age. I remember him being very clear that there was no way anyone was going to take his picture ever again.<br /><br />I looked over at him standing front and centre with a big smile glued to his face.<br /><br />I tried to trick her into my arms on the fringe of the gathering assuring her that we were too far to the side to be in the picture.<br /><br />She didn't fall for it.<br /><br />I promised to Photoshop Jill into the picture later.Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-61157094998550374702009-08-14T21:58:00.004-04:002009-08-14T22:25:00.496-04:00SleepI know that sleep is something that all parents complain about. At the moment we don't have it too bad. Both kids sleep through the night ... once they fall asleep.<div><br /></div><div>When Jill was a baby she woke every 45 minutes for the first year or so. Sometimes she would stretch it out to 90 minutes.</div><div><br /></div><div>That slowly got better as she got older, but she is a night owl. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am not.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the longest time she was going to sleep between 11 and 1 and sleeping until 8 the next morning. Slowly but surely we got her going to bed between 8:30 and 9:30. </div><div><br /></div><div>That was when she was in pre-school every morning. Once that ended, so the sleeping.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cait has always been a decent sleeper. She had the usual newborn adjustment period, but now at 15 months she will go to sleep at 8:30 and sleep for 11 or 12 hours.</div><div><br /></div><div>She doesn't like to go to sleep if Jill is still up. Jill is always still up.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right now it is 10:10. Jill has been in her bed for over 45 minutes. She has had 3 potty runs, 2 living room escapes, 4 calls for more stuffies, 1 screaming for no reason bout so we will come running. Now she is into the drinks and snacks portion of her nightly performance. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I am starving. I am so thirsty. Just a splash of water. Please!" (we do make sure that she is well fed and watered before she goes to bed).</div><div><br /></div><div>"My body is empty" is what she is currently shouting at me from her bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know she is tired. I can see it in her face and in her behaviour. She just won't give in.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cait had fallen asleep at 7:30 and then woke up at 9 with a huge grin feeling just peachy after such a great nap.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know that once we get back to school routines that both girls (and Rob and I) will start to sleep better.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess what I am trying to say is I am tired. And it doesn't look like that is going to change tonight.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-790144420618921328.post-89158636785748725252009-08-13T22:37:00.003-04:002009-08-13T22:56:53.711-04:00Treasures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xH60igtjAOc/SoTR3KaELPI/AAAAAAAABGI/wyOas0fParE/s1600-h/IMG_2696.JPG"></a>Cait has little treasures that she likes to carry with her. Lately she has been storing them in a play stroller that we have been testing (more on that later). <div><br /></div><div>She pushes this little stroller all over our place, smashing into walls and getting stuck in corners. She doesn't seem to mind, it is full of her treasures.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tonight when I went to tidy it up I found the following items:</div><div><ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xH60igtjAOc/SoTR3KaELPI/AAAAAAAABGI/wyOas0fParE/s320/IMG_2696.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369647401349164274" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span><li>her doll, Tidoo</li><li>a plate and spoon from the play Cafe</li><li>a wooden block</li><li>a stuffed cupcake from her picnic basket purse</li><li>a pair of J's socks (can't figure that one out, but there is usually a pair tucked away somewhere)</li></ul></div><div>These are the things that she holds near and dear. These are her lovies. If there had been an empty Tim Horton's cup lying around that would have been in the stroller too. She has loved those brown coffee cups since she was born.</div><div><br /></div><div>She doesn't have a blanket or a stuffie that she has bonded with. Just this odd little random collections of things that, when all together, seem to have great meaning to her. </div><div><br /></div><div>She cracks me up!</div>Her Best Mumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187107829688164238noreply@blogger.com0