Archives for March 2007

Finding my Voice

Yesterday I found my Mom Voice. This is the voice that comes, unsummoned, from the depths of a mother when it is needed. It stops adults in their tracks, and makes bullies cry. I can’t believe it took me over 2 years, but I found mine. And what did it say? It said, “HANNAH! Stop throwing things on the floor.

It was loud, it was firm, and it was forceful. But it was not frantic, angry, or unkind. It made Hannah stop and look at me with big eyes. But then? Then, she grinned and resumed her dispersal of a whole bag of baby carrots across the kitchen.

Yet again, words are meaningless unless they are backed by action. Particularly to a 2-year-old who is having a great time, and doesn’t really want to abandon the activity. Still, the dead stop, however brief, is more than I’ve achieved through other means. So, there you go.

New Computer

We got a shiny new computer from the nice people at Dell yesterday. It’s beautiful, but I’m all messed up. It has Windows Vista, which is just different enough to be confusin. And nothing works at the moment, because we have to set it all up from scratch. And the whole thing is just so quiet. It’s spooky, not having an audible hum.

I am not a person who embraces change, no matter how positive it is. I am currently eyeing the old, broken computer and feeling wistful. It crashed all the time, and it was slow, but it was mine. This one, with the fancy new wide screen and the pretty little speakers is just not mine yet. I am sure I will grow to love it, but it will take a while.

Ah, rich people’s problems. How fortunate I am. And how much of a whiner.

Twinkle Twinkle

Hannah Sings…

The Best Things in Life …

… cost 99 cents at Value Village.

I mean really, how can you beat hot pink butterfly sunglasses? You can’t. I’m only kicking myself because I didn’t pick up the other 4 pairs they had. They’re flimsy as can be, but Hannah loves them.

No Fooling Her

Heard tonight in our kitchen, as the peas cooked in the microwave:

Hannah – That is peas.
Amber – Those are peas.
Hannah – Yeah, it is.
Amber – The peas are cooking.
Hannah – No, that is not cooking, that is peas.

Pain of Childbirth

I was listening to the BBC today, and they were talking to the author of a book on the history of childbirth. She was discussing childbirth in the distant past, and stated that it’s always been understood to the the most painful experience a woman will have.

I wonder about this. I don’t think it was the most painful experience I’ve ever had. I had no epidural or pain relief, other than a few puffs of gas once I was complete and before I started pushing. And still, I don’t remember being in agony. I remember being very uncomfortable, and wondering how long I could go on. But was it worse than breaking my arm? Or a really bad migraine? I don’t think it was. The fact that I’m not certain which is worse says a lot.

So pronouncements about labour pain make me feel indignant. Why tell women that this will be excruciating, horrible, the worst thing ever? Even if it is, and I’m sure that for some women some of the time this is true, are they really better equipped if they’re scared? I don’t think so. I think the best thing in labour is to remain as relaxed as possible. Fear can only make things worse. Sure, explain the normal course of labour. Give coping mechanisms, outline options, all that stuff. But fear-mongering serves no one.

In the end, of course, there’s one critical difference between childbirth and a broken bone. At the end of childbirth, you have a baby. This is amazing, and in my mind puts the whole thing in context. If some pretty extreme discomfort for a few hours is the price I pay for bringing forth a new life, well, that’s worthwhile by any standard. Not something to be afraid of.


We have a fun new toddler behaviour around our house. For the past few months Hannah has been very interested in assigning ownership of objects. Any baseball cap is ‘Grandpa’s hat.’ Any pop can is ‘Daddy’s juice’. Anything in Hannah’s hands is ‘Hannah’s’.

Now we’ve graduated from assigning ownership to claiming property rights. We hear a lot of, “No, mine!” The object in question can be a long discarded, cold, crusty piece of toast that I was trying to clean up. Or, it can be another child’s toy that Hannah is playing with. Anything that Hannah has been using or playing with is hers. And woe to whoever touches it, or even looks at it sideways.

My favourite parenting book, Kids Are Worth It! by Barbara Coloroso, discusses how children rebel and seek independence at age 2, age 5, and then during adolescence. How it’s important to let this proceed along a reasonable course, so that kids can establish their own identities. And I buy that. I’m doing my best to take this new push for independence in stride. Most of these little behaviours are just developmental stages that Hannah will outgrow with or without my intervention, and I know that. But, when I’m just trying to clean the living room and I’m enduring another storm from Hurricane Hannah, it’s really hard to muster the necessary patience.

Still, I’m doing my best, and most days that’s pretty good. If I seem a little jumpy, it’s just because I know I will fail. And the tantrums will come, in spite of my best efforts. And so, I live in fear of certain doom, at the hands of merciless 2-year-old. 😉

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