Tag: children
Light Blogging – Ralentissement
Ralentissement forcé causé par un méchant streptocoque et 5 jours de misère fièvreuse. Fatigue oblige: il fallait que ça arrive. Mais grâce au miracle de la médecine moderne (les antibiotiques) et une bonne dose de chouchoutage par ma maman chérie, je me remets d’aplomb.
Light blogging ahead due to a mean streptococcus and 5 days of febrile misery. Fatigue does take its toll. But thanks to the miracle of modern medicine (antibiotics) and a strong dose of mothering from my own very best mother, I am getting back on my feet.
Twenty-Eleven
New Year’s Day must be right around the corner judging by the high rotation of TV ads for debt consolidation and weight loss products. January must be Boxing Month for the good folks at Fitness Depot, Weight Watchers and gyms everywhere. I have been thinking of re-joining Weight Watcher for a while but I don’t want to do it in January. Smacks too much of pre-ordered failure.
(As an aside, my spell-checker is taking issue with the word “pre-order” which is leading me down a philosophical path of reflection on pre-ordering. This should be the neologism of the year, a completely made-up notion for the purpose of online marketing. Think about it. What does pre-order mean? Before ordering. What is there before ordering? Not a whole lot. You order pizza because you want pizza. The order comes before the pizza but what comes before the order? The stomach grumble? The twinkle in the eye? Ordering is by definition an initiation of something. We only started pre-ordering stuff when Amazon thought it would be a good way of preventing potential clients from walking over to their nearest bookstore once the latest Harry Potter became available. Might as well wait for UPS, it’s been pre-ordered…)
Last year, I poached a retrospective from another blog. It’s a series of questions meant to make you go back on the year just over. They are superficial — what did you do on your birthday? — rather than life-changing but it’s very entertaining a year later. It’s like The Economist’s The World in… forecast issue. It’s always a good read when it comes out but not as much as it is a year later.
As it turned out, 2011 was The Year of the Twins. I spent the first 9 months of the year pregnant and the last 3 caring for two infants. And that sums it up! Here’s one question that makes me roll on the floor laughing:
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I was committed to losing those damned “last 10 pounds” but I put on 30 instead. I wanted to start hosting dinner parties for my adult friends, without kids. Instead I had an army of friends making me frozen dinners and bringing supper to my house. I wanted to take the children swimming and skating more often. Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha! *Wheeze* . I wanted to make more time for friends and family, instead I lost touch with people I care deeply about. I have only managed to keep close to my closest friends because they don’t take no for an answer and invite themselves over. It seems like the twins have made us even more insular than we already were.
Here’s another side-stitcher:
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Army Half Marathon. Getting out of bed at 5:00 am to run before work last spring.
ROAR! Getting out of bed at 4:45 to grab the first bus, getting off downtown and running 7.5 km at the crack of dawn in frigid weather before heading to work. It was cold, it was wet… and I have wonderful memories of it! Running will ruin your brain that way… This year, I hope to go for a walk. Once.
But I wasn’t laughing anymore when I started reflecting on this one:
13. What did you get really excited about?
We had twins and that was exciting but more like a slow burn. For sure, the birth was a lifetime high. But that must be, in my opinion, one of the saddest part of being constantly exhausted and busy: I don’t get excited about anything anymore. The grind of getting anything done gets the excitement factor out of things that should have been — or used to be — exciting. Like running my boss’ re-election campaign. Nothing is exciting anymore, it’s all in degrees of “exhausting”: somewhat, mildly, very, completely…
And maybe this will be my Twin-First-Year-Totally-Manageable-New-Year-Resolution: get excited about something. Change my outlook. Stop seeing things in degrees of exhaustion and start getting excited again! (I feel like I should add some exclamation marks here)!!!!!!!!
The Pits of Post-Partum
Let’s make one thing clear: the only reason why my posts on Facebook and Twitter are upbeat and positive is because I am generally upbeat and positive and I don’t want to be seen as a whiner. But the other day, when I asked my husband “The people who do it all well, how do they do it?” and he answered, wisely, “Maybe they aren’t”, I thought how social media is great at making us look exactly how we want to be seen.
It’s an interesting paradox in that we can reveal as little or as much as we want over social media. Some people are open books and others appear completely one-dimensional. Some are always whiny, others always rant-y, some always SHOUT and other pepper everything with exclamation marks!!!! I realized, while reading over some of my Facebook Friends’ posts, that I could be equally guilty — if guilty is the appropriate word because I don’t think that posting too little is a sin — of making life with newborn twins in a large family look like a walk in the park.
Let me preface what I am about to write by saying that I am not looking for advice (unless you want to provide it). This post is not meant to make you feel bad for not helping more. It is not meant as a pity party and I don’t need you to write to let me know that I am not fat, lazy and stupid (unless you really want to). But looking back at the last 2 months, I get the impression, confirmed by every mother of twins I have met, that I won’t remember much from the first 6 months of my babies’ lives. And so this post is as much to let you know how it really goes down around here as a personal chronicle of the good, the bad and, yes, the ugly, of those infamous first 6 months.
In the last 2 weeks, I have really hit the wall. The twins are 6 to 8 weeks and our family life has to return to a semblance of normalcy. In the last 2 months, I have barely slept. This is a true fact. With a singleton, you don’t sleep a lot. With twins, you don’t sleep at all. On the rare occasion when I get-up in a controlled mood – not even good, but not flying-off-the-handle – I realize how much parents influence the mood of the family as a whole. These days, it seems like everyone is barking at everyone and I can’t escape the fact that this is the tone I am setting. Each member of my family needs so much more than I am able to give right now, extreme fatigue and the relentlessness of caring for twin infants are limiting me physically and emotionally. My youngest children need more of me. My oldest children need more from me.
Every book will tell you that housework can wait but what about the things that can’t wait? Like keeping my toddler from killing herself, teaching my son that he doesn’t have to whine all the time or trying to understand why my teens or pre-teens are in a funk? In the Pits of Post-Partum, it’s not the dirty toilet that overwhelms me. While housework does make me feel like I’m not quite keeping up, it’s all the missed and messed-up opportunities to be an adequate parent that grab me by the throat. The more tired I get, the more help I need but the more tired I get, the more uncooperative my children become. It’s a vicious circle that I won’t break without investing more time in forming the children; not only correcting their lack of cooperation but also giving something in return, like gratefulness, understanding and appreciation.
There is literally 100 important things competing for every minute of time when I am not caring for the babies. And the more time goes by, the more things don’t get done. The constant gasping for more time is the biggest challenge of our large family. At any given moment, there are two kinds of stuff: stuff that needs to be done and stuff that isn’t getting done. I have developed a quasi-allergic reaction to idle time. Angst washes over me whenever I find myself idle with apparently nothing to do because it means that I’m forgetting something: a load of laundry, some boiling water for the bottles, a kid’s lunch.
In the Pits of Post-Partum, I don’t only anguish over the things I’m not doing now, I’m also worried about the things I should be doing soon, like exercise and lose the 20 extra pounds the twins have left behind. But right now, I can’t imagine having the physical energy to exercise or the mental energy to diet. I keep snacking on high-energy food while doing a double-take every time I see myself in a mirror. I still look 5 months pregnant for goodness sake!
And yet, even in the Pits of Post-Partum my beautiful family is what I am the most proud of. When we go out as a family I just want to yell “LOOK PEOPLE! 8 KIDS! I have 8 KIDS!” And maybe therein lies the rub: in the Pits of Post-Partum, I feel in short cycles tremendously blessed and terrified that I may be coming-up short.
It says we only live once. There is no second chance.
Je travaille pour un député à la Chambre des Communes
Ça semble important mais ce l’est rarement et quand ce l’est, ce n’est pas pour moi.
À la fin d’une journée de travail, je ne me rends pas aux nombreuses réceptions qui animent les environs de la colline parlementaire (et dont vous pouvez suivre les grands moments en lisant Matthew Rowe sur iPolitics.ca) je rentre à la maison nourrir ma famille.
Je ne suis pas au courant des derniers potins, je n’ai jamais rencontré de personnages importants, je ne déambule pas dans les coulisses du pouvoir.
À part la fois où j’ai failli échapper deux cafés sur Tony Clement — j’essayais d’ouvrir la porte de mon building avec les mains pleines, il essayait d’en sortir — je ne me suis jamais trouvée face à face avec un ministre. J’ai déjà pris l’ascenseur avec Gilles Duceppe (et une demi-douzaine d’autres personnes) mais ça résume à peu près 3 ans de travail sur la colline.
Je sors rarement de mon bureau situé dans l’édifice de la justice, le plus éloigné de l’édifice du centre, près de la cour suprême. En fait, je vais plus souvent au Starbucks qu’à la Chambre des Communes, c’est la pure vérité. Mon cousin Éric a travaillé comme page à la Chambre pour 1 an et je ne l’ai jamais croisé.
Mon travail est simple. Il a changé au cour des années mais j’ai commencé par m’occuper de l’administration du bureau de mon patron (répondre au téléphone, soumettre les factures, tenir l’agenda ) puis j’ai pris des responsabilités de recherche et de rédaction (communiqués, discours, correspondance). Et c’est tout. Je n’ai jamais été impliquée dans le développement de politiques ou de projets-de-loi ou dans la participation de mon patron aux débats en Chambre ou en comités.
Oui, j’ai une maîtrise en droit, oui je suis sur-éduquée et sous-employée. J’ai aussi 8 enfants et les patrons qui non seulement comprennent mais apprécient les limites imposées par une famille nombreuse sont rares. Pierre (mon patron) est un de ceux-là. Quand il m’a offert de me joindre à son équipe, j’étais enceinte de Sarah. Vous en connaissez combien de patrons qui engagent des femmes enceintes vous? Bien moi non plus. C’est non seulement un bon patron, c’est un excellent député complètement dédié à ses commettants. C’est mon député et je suis fière d’avoir aidé à le faire réélire en tant que gérante de campagne.
Au cours des années, on m’a accusé de bien des choses à cause de mon emploi. On m’a dé-“friendé” sur Facebook, on m’a tenu responsable des politiques du gouvernement en matière d’immigration, on m’a demandé d’intervenir pour empêcher la défaite d’un projet-de-loi privé, on m’a accusé de “travailler pour Stephen Harper”, on m’a mis en garde contre mon association avec des extrêmistes, j’ai même une amie qui m’ignore.
On s’entend que mon chèque de paye vient de la Chambre des Communes, pas de Stephen Harper. Je n’ai jamais rencontré le Premier ministre. Je ne l’ai même jamais croisé. Le Premier ministre ne sait même pas que j’existe! Si Stephen Harper n’était plus Premier ministre, je travaillerais quand même pour Pierre. Si Pierre changeait de parti politique, je travaillerais quand même pour lui. Autrement dit, ceux qui pensent que j’ai quelque influence que ce soit sur les décisions du gouvernement auraient besoin de sortir de chez eux plus souvent et passer moins de temps sur Internet.
Je suis désolée de décevoir ceux qui pensaient que mon travail faisait de moi une personne importante. Mais je peux vous dire que si un jour j’ai une influence quelconque au Parlement vous le saurez immédiatement car mon premier acte sera l’élimination immédiate, pressante et irrévocable de la cochonnerie de changement d’heure semestriel. Pour les 6 prochains mois, mes deux plus jeunes vont se coucher à 18:30 et se lever à 5:00. Non mais! Où s’en va le monde, je vous demande???
Such a chore! Part 1: Why chores matter? (it’s more than a clean toilet)
This post is a follow-up to last week’s Intervention post and the art of raising children who pick-up after themselves. I intend to write a series on chores. Why it matters, how to get your kids to do it and finally, how to get you to get your kids to do it.
Many parents put chores in the “pick your battles” folio of parenting. Of course, we all believe that children should pitch-in and learn to pick-up after themselves. All those frustrated to find an empty box of cookies in the pantry say “Aye!” Wouldn’t it be nice if the child who finished the cookies had the wherewithal to throw away the box? And yet, how many of us – especially those with large families where suspects abound – will call our children to the kitchen and ask them to pick-up their trash? We are more likely to shake our heads, throw away the offending empty box and move-on. We too often chicken out of holding our children to a standard of participation in the family’s life and well-being commensurate to their age and abilities. It is, after all, easier and more time efficient to throw away the empty box (or clean the bathroom, pick-up the toys or vacuum the bedroom) than to go through the song and dance of asking our children to do it. This is where parents of large families are at an advantage: doing everything for everyone is no longer time efficient and forces us to go through the song and dance of demanding concrete results from our children. Cue violins.
In our family, chores are not just a way to get stuff off the floor they also have an important role to play in the broader picture of education. It reminds me of something I read from Marybeth Hicks (who, shameless plug, will be giving a talk in Ottawa on November 18. My friends are organizing the event. Tickets can be purchased here or by calling Rachel at 819.775.5429). She was saying (probably through Twitter), referring to her children and political awareness: “We’re raising taxpayers.” The idea is that we’re not raising children, we’re raising adults and we must always keep sight of the adults we want our children to become. My long-term vision for my children is to raise them – in the words of James Stenson, another parenting author and speaker — to become “competent, responsible, considerate, and generous men and women who are committed to live by principles of integrity.” Here’s why a chores routine matters for the big picture.
1. Responsibility. In our family, children are not expected merely to pick-up after themselves but to play a role in the day-to-day function of the family. Each one of the four older children has responsibilities that go beyond their self-interest. Are they shining beacons of altruism? I wish! I mean, not yet! I think the quotes they will remember best from their formative years will be “It’s not a contest” (when they say “But I set the table twice in a row!”); “I don’t care whose turn it is, I just need it done ” (When they say “But it’s so-and-so’s turn to set the table”); and “I just made supper for the whole family all by myself” (when they say “But I just set the table all by myself.”) In other words, cry me a river. Chores that directly affect others in the family include washing bathrooms, emptying the dishwasher, setting the table, feeding the pets, taking out the trash. This type of chores emphasizes the team-work aspect of the family. Look at it as a two-wheeler bicycle: you have to keep moving to stay on it. Each member benefits from the family and each member has to pedal to keep it going.
2. Timeliness, or doing things in a timely fashion. When we limit our expectations to asking the children to pick-up after themselves, we generally tend to leave them in charge of the timing. There is a time and place for displaying initiative and ownership. When the garbage truck is barreling down the street is not that time. Timeliness is important because children need to learn that some things need to be done when they need to be done, not when they feel like it — also known as their own sweet time, also known as whenever. When I pile-up clean laundry on my daughter’s desk and ask her to put it away, there is no loss of functionality for the family if she gets dressed off her desk for a week and does her homework in bed. On the other hand, when she doesn’t empty the dishwasher before leaving for school, I (the mother with two infants in a sling) feel it right away. How many chronically unemployed adults explain their job losses by pathos such as “I don’t work well with rules” or “My boss did not understand my way of working”? Your own sweet time or whenever may work for you but it won’t always work for others. Agreed?
3. Method. Garbage has to be taken out weekly. If you dust the upper shelves after the lower ones, you will have to redo the lower shelves. Dust before you vacuum. Vacuum before you wash the floors. Don’t use the same rag to clean the toilet then the taps. And if you do a lousy job, mom will make you do it again. By doing chores over and over again – and by being forced to do them well — children learn efficiency and the importance of method. They also learn that doing the job well a.s.a.p. gets the boss of their back.
4. Team work. Assuming your children work well together. If not, they’ll learn coping strategies for working with people they don’t like. Full disclosure: my children don’t work well together. This morning’s coping strategies included hurling insults and orders at each other. Hey, it’s a work in progress ok?
What if you agree with everything I write but are having a hard time making it happen in your family? My next English post will expose a few pitfalls of developing a family chores routine and how to avoid, or at least get around, them.
Hey Vero 