Archive for the ‘Juniper’ Category

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Why I hate sharing events with my ex

Friday, December 18th, 2009

Not because they were casually dressed, front and centre and holding a camera, whereas I haven’t showered today (thanks to my hot water tank for exploding last night), arrived just in time, looking harassed and stressed (because I am - work is insane right now), and parked myself in a chair in the corner.

Not because I didn’t have my Buddy there (thanks again to my hot water tank for exploding last night, requiring one member of our household to stay home and wait for nice fixit people), or any other stars-in-alignment rationale.

No, the reason I hate sharing events is because Rosebud always goes to ex and girlfriend first.

The thing is - I know *why* she does it. She doesn’t live with them, and only has one overnight with them a week. Therefore, they are the speshul parents - the ones whose attention she gets more rarely, and therefore, covets more.

They’re also the parents who don’t have to poke the child awake every morning, wrestle her into clothing, and shuffle her occasionally unwilling body off to school. They don’t have to fight with her about what’s appropriate and what isn’t. Or about what she can have and what she can’t. They can afford to indulge her every whim, because we’re there to do all the discipline.

So yeah - I know why I get to be second fiddle at shared events. I understand it, and can even appreciate that, on one level, this means that I’m such a constant in her life she doesn’t even think about it. I know that this means she feels secure and safe with my love.

But in no way does that make it suck less.

All that said - Juniper and I were able to watch the concert together, and appreciate the awesomeness of our youngest family member together. When she finally did run over to us, yelling “Group kiss, group kiss!”, my joy over being with my girls was pretty much complete.

My kids are pretty much awesome all over.

Posted in Being a girl, Juniper, Rant, Rosebud, buddy, divorce, family | 2 Comments »

How was my morning?

Tuesday, October 6th, 2009

Picture it: Somewhere, out there, in the year 2030. Rosebud and Juniper are at their weekly joint therapy session. Each clutches a box of Kleenex.

Therapist: Let’s go back to what we were talking about last week. I think we were talking about *her*, right?

Both women nod vigorously.

Therapist: Yes, I remember. We were talking about the fall of 2009.

Again, they nod.

Therapist: Well, don’t clam up now, ladies. I think we were getting close to a breakthrough!

Juniper: It’s just so hard to talk about.

Rosebud: It was really . . . crushing.

Juniper: There was this one day in early October. We were supposed to have picture day at school. We had these matching dresses that our grandmother got us, and we were really excited to wear them. I remember I even got up early and started getting ready early. And then . . .

Therapist: Then what?

Rosebud: Then *she* got up and grabbed a hairbrush. And. . .

Juniper: . . . and against our will . . .

Rosebud: she put ponytails in our h-h-hair . . .

The entire room dissolves into tears and trauma, and the therapist runs back and forth between the women, consoling and comforting.

SCENE END

I do so like to keep track of which of the horrid and mean things I do to my children will likely be raised in future therapy. Evidently, ensuring their hair is thoroughly brushed and partially ponytailed for school pictures is going to be high on that list.

Or at least, that’s the message I got this a.m.

And how was your morning?

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Posted in Being a girl, In the mother/stepmother 'hood, Juniper, Rosebud, family | 4 Comments »

A big confession of the non-jocular persuasion

Monday, August 31st, 2009

I was a smoker. Then I got pregnant and I wasn’t a smoker. Then I stopped being pregnant (by virtue of squeezing the child out my nethers) and I was still a non-smoker. And then I stopped breastfeeding and suddenly became a smoker again.

This is not something I’m proud of. In fact, I’ve invested a whole lot of guilt and angst in the fact that I am actively shortening my life - something I don’t believe I have much right to do, now that I’ve spawned.

I have issues with smoking in eyeshot of my girls, much less in the general vicinity of their lungs.

In short - this is a habit that became a monkey on my back. Not one of the cute monkeys who tickle your ears and eat peanuts in the most charming way. I’m talking about a drooling, overweight baboon, thoroughly annoyed and shining his red hiney for all to see.

Over the last few years, I’ve thought about quitting a number of times. I’ve even made a few aborted attempts to quit - all to no avail.

Commitments to myself aren’t enough. It’s an awful truth, but it’s truth nonetheless. Promises I make to myself are always negotiable (read: breakable).

But when I make a promise to one of my children, I can’t break it. A few months ago, I promised Juniper that if she stopped doing something (a bad habit that I will not reference here, largely to avoid the future therapy session entitled “My stepmother overshared about my life on the Internet and now I’m a homeless crack addict.”), I would also stop my bad habit.

I uttered the promise before I even had a chance to think about it. It popped out of my mouth before the rest of the brain (and addicted body parts) could weigh in and slap me stupid for ever considering the notion.

It was out there. I’d said it, and Juniper remembered.

It’s been a few months since she quit the bad habit and, true to who she is, she hasn’t said a word to me about it. Not one comment. But I knew. And she knew. So a couple of months ago, I set a date for quitting and tried very hard not to think about it.

Trouble is - that date is next weekend. I will officially cease smoking Saturday.

To be perfectly honest, I’m petrified. It’s now consuming most of my daily thoughts, this quit date. I don’t look forward to it.

I’m actually assuming that I’ll spend the weekend hiding in my bed, waiting for the next junkie-like urge to hit me, all while covered in a fine sheen of sweat and seeing babies crawling on the walls and ceiling.

I know it won’t be that bad (or so my rational mind assures me), but I figure if I have low expectations for myself, I’ll be elated if I am not this bad.

My replacement for it can not be food, tempting though that might be. I plan on making (if not drinking) multitudinous cups of herbal tea (something about this mimics the psychological aspects of smoking for me - maybe in the meditative preparation of something entirely for myself? Dunno.)

Either way - this weekend is the end of me as a smoker. I just hope that the rest of me isn’t in too many pieces when the dust settles.

Posted in Health, Juniper | 7 Comments »

Back in the Aerosmith.

Tuesday, August 18th, 2009

Have you ever crammed two entirely different vacations into one ten-day period?

If you have, let’s high-five!

If you have not, let me tell you this. It’s wild and fun and mostly removes the feeling of post-vacation let-down. It also might make you incredibly grateful for your own pillow when it’s all done. In the “fall down, comatose and try very hard not to move for the next twelve hours” sense of the term.

It was a great honeymoon and a perfect blend of family time (the camping portion - hereafter dubbed Uno) and couple time (Part Deux)

But why write about it when I can addle your eyes with pics?

Camping pics ahoy!







Posted in Happiness, Health, Juniper, Rosebud, buddy, family | 2 Comments »

Nine years ago

Wednesday, June 24th, 2009

Nine years ago, something happened. At the time, I had no idea what happened, or that this occurrence would later end up having such a significant impact on my life.

Nine years ago, Juniper was born. It seems amazing to me that I wasn’t there to see her baby blue eyes first open. Nor to watch those eyes become the softer bluey-greeny-grey they are today. I wasn’t there to smell the top of her head, or to hold her when she cried. I wasn’t there for her first steps or her first words. I wasn’t there to listen to her develop the amazing art of whistling to get the attention of those outside of her crib bars.

I wasn’t there. And I wouldn’t have belonged there, even if Doc Brown showed up in a bloomin’ DeLorean and suggested a roadtrip.

I didn’t belong there, but now - now, I can’t imagine having a life without Juniper in it. She is my child, Rosebud’s sister and a fundamental part of our family.

I know that the complications of blended families can be hair-raising. I know they raise all sorts of issues around parenting versus step-parenting, and the reality of not having your children with you at home every day.

But for today - I’m glad. I’m glad that we could dogpile on her bed for a birthday morning hug. I’m glad we were able to watch her open her book and her new dress (can’t have a birthday proper without getting gifts, even if the party comes later). I’m equally glad that Juniper’s mom is taking her to the beach today, and that they’ll be celebrating, too.

In the end, it’s not that hard to share your kids, because in the end, they get more. More love, more opportunities, more time and more attention. And there’s no better time to have this be the case than a birthday.

Happy Birthday, Juniper. You have a big, beautiful heart and a smile that takes your face from pretty to heartstopping. Your sense of humour, your sense of responsibility, your affectionate ways and your giving nature are the gifts you give us every day. Long may you reign.

Posted in Getting older, In the mother/stepmother 'hood, Juniper | 2 Comments »

If you ever wondered.

Tuesday, June 9th, 2009

Last weekend, Juniper and Rosebud had 17 minutes of time together. In total.

That’s the reality of blended family life. Constant changing of sibling dynamics (or absence of them). Rosebud goes to her father’s house, where she’s an only child. Juniper goes to her mother’s home, where she’s the older sibling of a small toddler boy.

Sometimes, Rosebud is an only child at our house.

Sometimes, Juniper is an only child at our house.

And sometimes, they’re together for seventeen minutes.

This generation is looking to be like a bunch of guinea pigs. I guess we all were, to some degree or another. We have no real idea of how these constantly shifting sands are going to impact children. Will they be healthier for it? Will they be confused? What happens to the psychological theory of sibling order and its impact on personal development?

All I can really tell you is that the 17 minute weekends make me sad for them. Juniper may enjoy her time as a reinstated only child, but she’s also the person who put a banner and streamer up in Rosebud’s room after her weekend away. Rosebud lives and breathes by Juniper’s attention, and is frequently crushed when she doesn’t have time with her big sis.

And inevitably, after some time away, they have a transition process. They have to transition back to our rules, our expectations and our household rhythm. They also have to adjust to each other. Transitioning back to us usually involves some level of temper tantrum/attitude. Usually takes about an hour, depending on the duration of the absence.

Their transition time with each other usually goes something like this:

Rosebud to Juniper: Play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me.

Juniper to Rosebud: I’m tired. I don’t want to play.

Rosebud to Juniper: Play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me, play with me.

Me to Rosebud: Leave Juniper be!

Rosebud leaves Juniper alone.

Minutes elapse.

Juniper to Rosebud: Wanna play?

Rosebud: Okay!

They disappear for hours, emerging only to demand snacks and occasional attendance for restaurant openings, tea parties and fashion shows.

It’s tiring to get them through these transitions. They happen every week. I hope that they’re as adaptable as they seem to be. I hope that they remember growing up as a joyous thing.

I hope.

Posted in In the mother/stepmother 'hood, Juniper, Rosebud, Thunks, divorce, family | 4 Comments »

Conversations with Juniper

Friday, May 8th, 2009

Juniper: I don’t get the whole hot yoga thing.

Me: Oh?

Juniper: At first I thought it was all hot, like popular. But it’s not.

Me: It troubles you, does it?

Juniper, staring off into space, answers in an absent whisper: It really does.

Take that, ye exercise trendsetters. If an eight-year-old thinks it’s deranged, I’m willing to bet that our grandchildren will find it unbelievably funny.

Posted in Being a girl, Health, Juniper | No Comments »

Grrr. Argh.

Thursday, April 30th, 2009

As seems to be my wont these days, when I ovulate, I get cranky. Not just cranky. Utterly out of control, hanging on to sanity and calm by the very tips of my fingernails (thanks for killing the manicure), ready to start headspinning and spewing suspiciously pea-soup-like substances from every orifice . . .

This is not helped by the fact that Juniper was crushed last night. Her other house had a dog for a few months. Now it doesn’t. I will not get into how unspeakably awful it is to introduce a pet to a child, only to take it away when it becomes work. I will simply say that the cranky factor was elevated by this.

It is also not helped by Rosebud suddenly and abruptly attempting the “I don’t love you, I don’t like you” routine. Even though I laughed hysterically in the face of it. What else can you do? Especially since, once her fit was over, she ran over to reassure me that she loves me “always and always and forever and ever”.

It is not helped by being dragged from my bed at a ridiculously early hour by a ridiculously chirpy child, who clearly has no sense of her own mortality as she poked the mama bear awake through sheer, repetitive insistence. A child who then resisted every article of clothing I picked out, wailed wildly and whinged incessantly until Buddy took pity on me and waded in to negotiate a truce. Said child might have heard swears coming out of my mouth for the first time ever, which is a yardstick of how cranky I am/was. While my lips are well-versed in the entire range of English-language curses, I’m generally quite careful not to utter them in front of my girls.

It is not helped by the fact that the tunnel o’ work has been desperately and seriously plugged for the better part of two weeks. Which is not to say that I’m not getting work done. I am. I really am. It’s just that it’s getting about two inches away from my desk and sticking there. Which means that the next item of work gets about an inch and a half away, and so on, and so on. This will end one of two ways - either I’ll have egg all over my face with clients because I’ve failed to return things to them (through no fault of my own). Or everything will come back all at once, causing a wild scramble for me to attempt to send everything out on time - not fair, since I’m not the logjam.

It is not helped.

It can’t really be helped, I suppose. But I’m sick of spending one week out of every month in this mental state. Cranky, irritable, starved (despite shoving my face full of food at every opportunity) and an all around joy to be around. I’m annoying myself. If that ain’t the limit, I don’t know what is.

ETA: I’ve been gifted with a copy of the new Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs. This seems to be helping my mood.

Posted in Being a girl, Juniper, Rant, Rosebud, work | 4 Comments »

Installing Try 1.0

Friday, March 27th, 2009

It’s a difficult puzzle, finding the right way to instill a work ethic in children. You don’t want to Instill A Work Ethic the way it used to be done, through fathers who worked ridiculous hours and were never available for their kids, or through mothers grinding themselves into an early grave through sheer exhaustion.

There must be a balance between work and life. I’m not sure how that balance works, to be honest, but I know it’s out there, and I know it’s the brass ring.

Children rarely seem to require any instructions for the life part of the balance. They know how much fun it is to play, and they know that play is easy - if you get bored with one thing, you simply move on to the next.

But work? Work is sticking with something. Work is honouring your commitment. Work is your responsibility. Work isn’t so much fun in and of itself - but it does offer the joy of completion as its reward.

So instilling a work ethic. Buddy and I refer to it as installing Try 1.0 - hence the blog title.

Our current downloading venue is Juniper. She’s an incredibly bright, intelligent and good-natured little girl - even without my bias, this is fact.

The trouble is, she doesn’t like to do things that involve trying and failing. Can’t really blame her - no one likes to fail at anything. But our goal now is to get her to realize that some things cannot be avoided or left out or rejected, even if they do involve multiple attempts. She needs to keep trying, even when things are hard or confusing.

I keep telling her that there are no shortcuts - that some things just have to be done. And that we’ll help her keep trying until she succeeds.

I can see why so many parents end up avoiding things that cause children to try and fail. It’s not easy to watch them fail. It’s not easy to keep putting them back in those circumstances.

Somewhere out there, I believe there is the balancing point between helicopter parenting and setting children up for failure. I’m just not sure I’d know I struck the balance, even if I was standing on the line.

Damnit, where did my parenting map go?

Posted in In the mother/stepmother 'hood, Juniper, buddy, family | 5 Comments »

Interview with a parent.

Friday, March 6th, 2009

It’s a meme, I know. But it’s a really damned adorable meme, so I’ve put both Juniper and Rosebud to it. Here are their responses.

JUNIPER - Age 8

1) What is something your stepmum always says to you?
No matter where you go, or what you do, you’re stuck with me, ’cause I love you. (Note to readers: poetry writing is not my strong point. Hey, at least it isn’t a limerick. We’ll save that for later years.)

2) What makes your stepmum happy?
Me and Rosebud.

3) What makes your stepmum sad?
When she fights with Buddy. (Odd. We were both perplexed by this one, because we honestly don’t fight.)

4) How does your stepmum make you laugh?
She tickles me.

5) What was your stepmum like as a child?
I don’t know.

6) How old is your stepmum?
34 (Bah - she knows too much.)

7) How tall is your stepmum?
*looks at me like I’m nuts* I have no idea.

8) What is her favorite thing to do?
Cook.

9) What does your stepmum do when you’re not around?
Watch TV. (Hmm. I checked and I haven’t sprouted, so I don’t think I’m quite this much of a couch potato.)

10) If your stepmum becomes famous, what will it be for?
Singing. (Erp. I should probably stop bellowing music into her ears, she’s clearly going deaf.)

11)What is your stepmum really good at?
Typing.

ROSEBUD - Age 3 (and a half!)

1) What is something mom always says to you?
She takes a shower. (I have no idea what this means. Either I need more hygiene, or she thinks I overbathe.)

2) What makes mom happy?
Me.

3) What makes mom sad?
I’m not here. (Astute.)

4) How does your mom make you laugh?
Funny jokes.

5) What was your mom like as a child?
Rosebud.

6) How old is your mom?
*Holds up three fingers*

7) How tall is your mom?
*Stretches out hands to Cabbage Patch height*

8) What is her favorite thing to do?
Colouring.

9) What does your mom do when you’re not around?
Go to work. (Better than “watches TV”, for my ego at least)

10) If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
For Circus. (Indeed. I am the Ringmaster. Mistress. Thing.)

11) What is your mom really good at?
Colouring. (Evidently)

Posted in Happiness, In the mother/stepmother 'hood, Juniper, Odds and Sods, Rosebud, buddy, family, geekery | 4 Comments »

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