7 Months of Mason

• Met his Canadian family for the first time and loved them.
• Multiple people have told me that "he doesn't look real. He is too cute to be real." And it's true.
• He may have a bit of a complex, though. He thinks the world revolves around him and isn't happy unless someone is making direct eye contact and fawning over him. And more often than not, when we are out and about, there is someone doing just that. But I don't have time to sit and stare at him all day, much to his chagrin. 
• He is starting to find his voice and babbles "dada" a lot, along with an excited stuttering when he is happy and laughing. He growls constantly, asserting his masculinity.
• He is sitting up on his own a it better, only really falling when he is reaching for something too far from his grasp or if he is being "helped" by his sister.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

And I behold these two All. The. Time. I know that I'm biased, but I love to look at them. I know what is familiar is beautiful to us, so it makes sense that my offspring who look sometimes like me and sometimes like my husband (who has been confused with my brother) are darling in my eyes. But based on so many other unbiased opinions, these two really are smashers. I don't think anyone can deny the chubby cheeks, bright blue eyes and blonde hair that we all have in common add up to some serious cuteness.

 

Two's a Crowd.

5 or 6.

That was my response to inquiries about how many children I'd like to have. Before I had children. Even after I had Teagan, I was fairly confident that I'd like a large family. Enter Mason and I'm not so sure anymore.

I keep trying to remind myself that it won't always be this demanding, that I won't always have an infant and a toddler but it's hard to picture when I am up to my eyeballs in an infant and a toddler.

Granted they are adorable, relatively well-behaved children. They just suck every ounce of love and attention and patience and time I have to give and leave me a hollow shell of my former self. It just seems as though one of them always needs me - day or night. When Mason is awake, he demands that I look at him, hold him or play with him every second. And when he is asleep, poor, neglected Teagan pleads with me to play with her and I feel like the worst mother in the world if I don't oblige. I find myself saying "in a minute", "when I finish feeding Mason" or "just wait" more times in a day than I can count and I hate myself for it, but can't seem to find a way around it.

I would love to be able to juggle them both really well at the same time so that I can feel okay about sending Teagan of to play by herself while Mason naps (for half an hour at a time, I might add.) But as it turns out, a three year age gap makes a big difference in young children. Teagan loves to "play" with Mason, but that means I end up rescuing him from a too-enthusiastic hug or snatching away too-small toys that she wants to share with him. Her intentions are great, her execution needs a little work.

I didn't think I was selfish with my time, but since having Mason, I'm very possessive of any "me" time I can get, no matter how short. The opportunities haven't presented themselves often - usually just practicing for musical numbers or Relief Society meetings - not really partying. Sleep isn't even much of an escape these days, as more often than not I get one to sleep and the other wakes up. On more than one occasion, Brandon has had to come and find me in Teagan's room when Mason cries for too long. Initially I got up to put him back to sleep and as soon as that's done, Teagan wakes up, I fall asleep there and Brandon thinks that I'm in Mason's room helping him but I'm passed out on Teagan's twin bed. <Sigh> Here at my parent's house, my brother AND sister vacated their rooms and are relegated to the couches in order to make room for us. But as it stands, Teagan begins to cry in the middle of the night and after putting her back in her bed twice, I give up and let her in with me. She lays as close to me as possible, sometimes on top and Mason wakes up wanting in on the action as well and so we all snuggle together - thank goodness Nicola sleeps in a Queen bed!

 Though I'm still left with only inches when the morning comes.

When one is up, they wake the other and it's on, with me having only slept a couple of hours. They don't seem ruffled. I try to party with my siblings who stay up until 3:00 without batting an eye, but I have to accept the fact that I can't be that person anymore if I'm going to be a good parent, or a parent at all the next day.

I know it's worth it and I know this is the most important way I can be spending my time, but I haven't even had the time to record memories of my babies. I'm too exhausted to write at the end of the day and so my journal of this most important time in my life is sadly lacking and it is frustrating me that I can't keep up with anything at all - even that which is related to my little darlings.

Maybe no one else has a hard time adjusting to two children? Is it just me? Or no one talks about it and I'm making a foray into unknown territory by admitting that I'm struggling. So - you're welcome. This post may make me sound selfish, but I needed to write down how I feel in some of the hard times so that I can look back and either laugh when I have more children or confirm the fact that I was smart to stop at two.

Stuck on Frozen

Poor, little Teagan didn't get to see Frozen in theatres. So we are a little late to the party, but she has more than made up for it with her enthusiasm. We've been re-enacting Anna and Elsa's first scene repeatedly for weeks now, and I have have a few notes for Teagan on our performance:

1. I feel like the 23rd time was our best.
2. Confession: I request the role of Elsa because she's laying down for the first few minutes and even longer when you can't remember your lines. Yep, I'm lazy.
3. When I DO play Anna, you don't shout for help near loudly enough after the accident. In fact, you whispered once. I am never leaving you alone with the baby. Or myself.

4. Your toddler-grade dexterity is never more evident than when you try to pry open my eye to ask if I want to build a snowman. I may have a bruise from all the stabs.
5. Every time you grin and ask if I want to build a snowman I want to squeeze you and never let go and I'm cherishing these moments. Over and over and over...

6 Months of Mason

• At the beginning of the month, he came to some sort of realization of how much he loves his sister. Every morning when she comes into the room, he lights up and shakes with excitement.
• She loves him right back - every day when she sees him, her first exclamation is "I love Mason. Mason's so cute. I love our baby." Melts my heart.
• Early in April, Mason learned he could open and shut his little hands and "wave". One minute you're intently staring at one another, having a moment, and the next, his gaze has wandered just a little bit off and it's always his hand - as if he forgot it was there.
• He's getting better at sitting, but just when you think he's got it, his huge cranium weighs him down and he topples over. He's a little top heavy.
• He loves to eat. All. The. Time. Even when I'm sitting in front of him with a spoon in my hand destined for his face, he is shaking with anticipation and often yelling because the spoon isn't moving quite fast enough.

Mason Moments

On April 10th, I was trying to nurse the boy and every 30 seconds, he would pull off, smile his dimply smile which grew into a lipless grin and wave his little hand. Well, open and shut it in my general direction, but with him grinning ear to ear at me, it sure felt like he was saying hello. There is nothing that feels better than seeing this little man after a while, be it a nap or staying with a friend, and having him notice me and immediately smile and reach for me. When he's happy. Every morning when I go to get him (and it hasn't been that long since I've seen him - believe me) but he is so happy that it's me. That it's Teagan. That it's Daddy. Not the "oh great, it's you again" that it will most likely become when he's a teenager. For now he is excited that I keep turning up and I never want to forget how that feels.

The Things Teagan Says IV...

Mummy: "Are you dry? Do you need to pee?"

Teagan: "No, thanks for asking!"

"Come on, buddy Daddy!" Apparently I call him Buddy a little too often.

Our family dinner question the other night was "What would you wish for if you had three wishes?"

Teagan's list: 

1. A trampoline.

2. Livi.

3. A phone.

Teagan: "You a good mommy, Mommy."

Then I kissed her.

Teagan: "Oh yuck! Oh yuck means I love mommy and daddies."

"This is nice, Mom." as we were snuggling while we were both sick.

"I'm not eating Mason." It's when she tells me she's not doing something that I need to be nervous.

"I need an egg. Not an Easter egg, that's not what I'm talking about. A Halloween egg." (Cadbury's Screme Eggs)

"My daddy ate lots of cookies so his tummy got really big."

Teagan (holding Mason): "I don't really like from up on my arm."

Mummy: "It's not throw up, it's just drool."

Teagan: "Oh. I don't really like drool on my arm."

Teagan: "Mommy, can you please help me wiv my puzzle?"

Daddy: "Can Daddy help you with your puzzle?"

Teagan: "Well, it's gonna be hard, Daddy."

According to Teagan, blowing raspberries on one's tummy is actually called "Spinkletoots."

The same girl who called her first baby doll "Baby" has been calling her second baby - get this - Baby Blones. Not sure what the origin of this particular name is, but it makes me laugh every time she talks about her. And that's a lot.

I love having conversations with my little girl. When she's not yelling (and sometimes even when she is), she's an absolute riot!

Sincerely, Disappointed

A lecture I formulated on the plane and never got the chance to deliver but had to get it out somehow:

Dear Women Behind Us on the Plane 

I'd like to offer some friendly, albeit unsolicited advice. The next time a young mother and her small children sit in front of you on a plane, perhaps you could offer a polite smile or a kind word instead of rolling your eyes and moving to the other side of the plane like we were a bad smell. (Granted, we presented the possibility of a bad smell, but we smelled like roses at the time we boarded.) You see, this was the first time I'd flown in quite some time and the first time I'd braved flying with both of my children. And I lost sleep over several weeks, worrying over how they'd behave. Worried that I'd wind up sitting near someone like you who would have no patience for my little family and assume the worst of us. I must confess to getting more than a little pleasure out of the fact that seconds after you moved away from us, three babies (louder and grumpier than mine) surrounded you on a full flight. I'm not asking you to love my kids, I don't even expect you to think they're cute, but you should be able to sit within a few feet of them for a couple of hours. 

Wishing I could have said all this to you in person,

A Disappointed Mum

I played the interaction out in my head over and over for the two hours we were in the air, but in the end, couldn't bring myself to confront her with what I wanted to say. Instead, with all the courage I could muster, I caught her eye as she passed our row to make her exit and asked, "So, did you get to enjoy your flight?" She looked a little confused and then made the connection that she'd moved away from us earlier. "Oh, well...Nothing personal, you know. Been there done that."

I had wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, telling myself that maybe the older one hadn't been able to bear children and couldn't stand to be within a few feet of them and that the younger one with the laptop was on the verge of making an earth-shattering discovery. But as yet, I haven't heard that cancer has been cured or that we've finally found a way to teleport instead of flying.

But when the woman revealed that she was indeed a mother and she'd gone through what I was currently going through, my heart sank. She knew how hard this was and still chose not to show any compassion or even friendliness. I understand that she "put in her time" and felt like she had earned the right to relax and put her feet up on a flight, which she had! I wasn't expecting her to hold my children or entertain them or even talk to us, it was just the fact that she made a point of moving away from us that upset me. On the rare occasion that I'm out and about without my kids, I try to smile or pass a helpful comment or something to lift a mother's spirit when she's trying to parents a youngster. Waiting in line at the post office and noticing a little boy making his mother crazy, I tried to engage him in conversation to give his mom an infinitesimal break from him tugging at her arm. Something to let someone else know they aren't alone.

I'm in the thick of it and perhaps I'm looking at the future with rose coloured glasses because I can't possibly be more frazzled or sleep-deprived than I am no, but I would like to think that in twenty or so years when my children are taking care of themselves (that will happen, right?) that I will remember enough about my current stage of life to smile at the young mother wrestling two small children by herself in an airplane seat the size of a matchbox. Although by then, I'd like to think we'll be teleporting...or at least they'll be making planes with more leg and elbow room.