Birthday fun

Will is the only middle-of-the-summer baby in the whole family, cousins included. So I often find myself feeling a little bad for him that he hasn't yet gotten the family party experience that comes with lots of little friends and cousins and grandparents and aunts and uncles and the whole sha-bang. However, we have tried to do something fun around his birthday to celebrate our fun little guy in order to make up for our displaced-ness. Last year we did his first water park and the Canadian Children's Museum in Ottawa, and this year we did a nature playground and the Winnipeg zoo.

 Our Samsam taking notes on the polar bears. 

"See Mum they're not fat, they're just fluffy"

 Amongst many other animals the polar bear tunnel was the definite highlight of the day!

 "Dinosaur scary"

The dinosaurs were a bit of a shock to Will I think. Especially when they moved and started to make noise!

We met up with friends who have the most amazing little red haired (sorry Elliot - orange!) girl who gets along wonderfully with our boys. Will and Elliot were quickly taking off down the zoo paths much faster than we tired parents cared to chase after, so we opted for voice recalls instead (I am more and more noticing similarities between toddler training and puppy training - is that awful of me? We enjoyed the day immensely, complete with pizza and ice cream cake.

Being displaced from home is definitely not always easy, and there plenty of other football mamas out there that I know understand. And so many other occupations that have even crazier schedules (one of the first things people ask when they hear how much we move is if we're army - I can't remotely imagine how crazy that must be). But we make the best of our surroundings and despite my hermit tendencies we do get out now and then to have a little fun.

Until everyone is screaming at the end of the busy and then it's a quick off-to-bed-you're-driving-me-crazy ;)

(I guess that's how you know it was a really good day!)

Summer #3

This is the third summer now of moving back and forth. Living in sparsely furnished houses, without the vast majority of our own things. I don't have anything new to say about it really. A new city to explore this year which I am stubbornly resisting learning how to navigate. The usual.

I feel the more children I have and the more often I go through this the less energy I have to care, or to put into trying new things. It's a terrible attitude, I'm well aware. But I am a home body. I am a creature of habit if there ever was one. I like routine. I like the same places and the same things. I like knowing what I'm doing and being comfortable doing it. I like being home. I like knowing where all my stuff is, and the days of having all our own things readily available, building flowerbeds and gardens and driveways and horse sheds seem far behind us.

I sound awful boring, don't worry, I'm well aware. 

The kids of course adjust much better than myself. Give them some room outside to play, some goldfish crackers, and some Paw Patrol and I'm pretty sure they'd happily live anywhere. We have a little 5$ blowup pool from walmart that they happily splash in all afternoon long, they don't need much, despite me sitting here looking at play structures and swing sets on pinterest. I hope I'm doing alright with them. I do try now and then, I really do. They seem pretty happy most of the times anyway.

Birthday "happy cakes" to celebrate our William

I sit and dream sometimes of things we will do when "real life" starts, and I need to slow down and remind myself that this is real life. Right now. The babies are growing and football is exciting and these moment won't happen again. Days filled with land developing and fence building and flower bed tending, they'll happen again.

Deep Breaths

Sometimes I find myself needing to stop, and take a deep breath, and to remind myself that I am still me.

I am still me in there. Somewhere. Somewhere underneath the angry mom voice, the snot cleaning, the butt wiping, the refereeing, the breast feeding, the toddler feeding (or failure of)...  And it is in these moments of all three children crying at me for whatever reason, that I need to stop. To slow down the chaos in my head that all of them needing something from me at the exact same time creates. When I am overrun by the feeling of becoming the cranky, frumpy, yelling, angry mom, I need to stop. And remember that I am still me.

I adore these boys. I adore that I get to hang out with them all day, I would be beyond jealous if anyone else got to. I adore and admire how Will is the biggest sweetheart I have ever met, and despite how emotional he can be, I know he gets that from me, because he comes and strokes my face softly when I am sad and emotional. I adore how Sam is still such a squishy little cuddler, my own personal teddy bear. And I adore how Ben gazes at me while he nurses and if I look back he loses focus on the task at hand and just smiles and giggles at me. Things take much longer to accomplish but goodness I wouldn't have it any other way. I have time.

I have become a mother, yes, right down to the deepest and darkest parts of my soul. And I so love it, and I wouldn't change it for the world. But I have to remind myself that I am still me in there. I still have my own personality. I can still be funny and silly and just as goofy as these hilarious boys of mine. I do not just need to only be stressed and worried and frazzled about my kids all the time, about getting things done, about schedules and eating and sleeping and cleaning. I am allowed to have other thoughts creep into my mind. I am still allowed to have my own interests that don't have to revolve around what's the next activity to do to keep my children busy.

And if some days the tv is on more than it should be, if Cinderella runs through a second time (goodness they love Cinderella), so I have a bit more opportunity to do something I want to do, to sit, to read, to journal, to drink my coffee while it's still hot... That's ok. And I don't need to beat myself up or wallow in guilt over that.
Because I'm allowed to still be me.