The thing about boys + girls
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| Barbies make the world go ’round |
I’ve admitted before that I used to be terrified about having a son. Absolutely terrified.
Growing up in a household with only girls, my limited experience with little boys was that they were of the grubby, loud, rambunctious, and destructive variety.
But in the nearly-three years that I’ve been the mama of a little boy, I have realized how very, very wrong I was. Even before having a daughter, I realized I was wrong. But now that I do have a daughter, too, let’s just say that I’m reminded daily how my misconceived notions were totally off-base.
This much I know to be true (in my house, at least):
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| C (and her doll) having side-by-side kicking and screaming tantrums (which only happen, oh, every three minutes) |
Girls are actually way louder than boys. I would have NEVER suspected this, because my mom always talked about how my sister and I were super-quiet little angels (well, for the most part). It’s possible that that’s true for some little girls, but not for mine. C just turned one a week ago, and OH MY LORDY I have never been around a louder child. I used to be afraid of having a boy who was running around the house making top-volume truck noises. Now? I have a near-constant headache listening to this little lady’s shrieks. D is the quiet one!
Girls will pee on you more than boys. This one really surprised me. D only ever peed while we were changing him ONCE in his life (right after we brought him home from the hospital), and he maybe peed on the floor twice as a baby, crawling around in the nudie-pants. But C? That girl has peed on us during multiple diaper changes, and every single time she’s allowed to roam free. Last week, she toddler up to the corner of the couch, lifted her chubby leg, and peed on it like a dog — and let’s just say, it came out from all, uh, angles. Little Sis and I almost died laughing.
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| D loves his dolls. “Mommy” is the one in the skirt. “Auntie Lely” is the one without pants (sorry about that, Little Sis) |
Boys like to play with dolls and dress up. I thought I’d be in for a decade of nothing but Hot Wheels and Transformers, but I was wrong. D does love to play with cars, trucks, and trains, but he also loves to dress up. He has two sets of “dress-up dolls” (these boys from Melissa & Doug). And it warms my heart to watch D play with the dollhouse or my beloved Barbie collection. He walks them around, makes them talk to each other, arranges them in scenes — the works. Is there anything cuter than watching a two-year-old boy tuck in a tiny doll, and then hover the “Daddy doll” (Ken) over the cradle and singing “Hush Little Baby”? No. No, there is not.
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| C tearing into the contents of a cabinet in the hutch |
Girls love cars, dirt, and destruction, too. Growing up without brothers, we didn’t own “boy toys” like cars or trucks — unless you count the white Barbie Corvette? But C has the benefit of an older brother, so she has all kinds of neat things to play with (that she probably wouldn’t have if she had an older sister). She loves to play with his car ramp, and Darling Husband’s old model cars. She loves the train table. She sits in our “rock box” and gets muddy as heck. We used to always joke about how D was “into everything!” when he was a one-year-old, and figured it was because was a busy boy. But now? C is exactly the same way.
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As D and C get older, it’s so interesting so see how they change and become more and less like each other. Darling Husband and I always seem to be commenting on how something C does is different than D did at the same age — namely, uh, LOUDER.
I guess my point is that I know a lot of friends who have been freaked out to have a baby boy, thinking they were going to be difficult or loud or rambunctious, and — knowing what I know now — I would laugh and tell them that they may be surprised. Boys are not the little monsters they are often made out to be, and girls are not the subdued little girls they are often made out to be.
For friends who find out they’re expecting a baby girl, I would smile, tell them that they may be surprised … and hand them a pair of earplugs!
xoxo
Five things
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| D getting stuck inside his many sweatshirts |
Five things our almost-three-year-old son, D, is obsessed with right now …
- Sweatshirts, especially zip-up ones (It’s been a very chilly late-May here in Canada)
- Riding in Daddy’s car (Mommy’s van is not cool, as even a two-year-old knows)
- Witches and ghosts (specifically, SCARRRRY witches and SPOOOOKY ghosts)
- Talking like a teenage boy. He’s saying “Woohoo!” “Oh yeahhh!” “Oh my GOSH!” and giving us a knowing “Ohhhhhh!”
- Getting dressed without help, “reading” books to us, singing songs without our accompaniment, and generally being Mr. Independent
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| Little Miss C |
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| Going for a wheelbarrow ride |
- Mommy (Seriously, just try to get between us. You’ll be deafened by the shrieks)
- Shrieking (see above). She shrieks when she’s happy, when she’s sad, when she’s mad, when she’s been wronged, when life is unfair, when life is exciting, when she sees any of her family members. You get the idea.
- Sitting at “the small table” to eat snacks with her big brother
- Rides. You should see her face light up when she’s getting pulled around the house in her new pink wagon, like a queen
- Headbands. Finally! I broke her! She still yanks them off, but then she tries to get them back on (and sometimes leaves them on the second time). She often toddlers over to her headband box (oh yeah, there’s a boxful!) and tries to try them on. *holding my breath she loves to dress up!*
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| Eating at “the small table” |
Beating my "personal best" for breastfeeding
There’s often a lot of Judgey McJudgerson situations when it comes to breastfeeding, and that’s not for me. I don’t care if people formula-feed from the beginning (although I wince a little thinking of the cost, and the amount of work). I don’t care if people breastfeed until their child is four (although that’s not for me). It’s a personal choice. Period.
For me, I’m just taking it day by day and seeing how it goes. Yes, there are moments when I feel like a dried-up milch cow and I kind of want to STOP breastfeeding. But there are also plenty of moments when I’m SO VERY GRATEFUL for the chance to sit down and close my eyes, and snuggle my little baby. Honestly, she’s a loud little thing, and this is one of the few things that will make her quiet!
When will I stop? Who knows? But I can promise you, when I am done breastfeeding, I’m treating myself to a new bra or two. Mama deserves it!
xoxo
The evolution of a closet
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| { Pin this on Pinterest } |
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| This is how disgusting our closet used to get. Ew, ew, ew. |
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| Then I gave it this super-awesome makeover, and it was great. But as the kids grew, things needed to be updated, so it was time to revisit it! |
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| The major change was that I took down the clothespins that held the cardstock labels to the red storage bins. The kids were constantly yanking off the clothespins and breaking them, and it made the labels all tattered. |
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| So I made fresh labels from yellow cardstock, and used red embroidery thread to tie them on. Yes, the kids could rip them off — they haven’t yet — but now when they grab the handle, they’re not immediately dislodging a clothespin. |
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| I kept the chalkboard label on the “Outbox” because that stayed the same. That box ROCKS MY WORLD, because it helps me remember things I want to take out to the van, dishes to return to people, borrowed items to give back, etc. |
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| Back to the red bins. We originally had the bin for C’s hats on the far left, but it was always a hassle to reach. Since she wears hats 100% of the time — warm ones in the winter, sunhats in the warm weather — it made a HUGE difference to make it more accessible. |
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| D and C used to each have separate “Accessories” bins, but I condensed them into one bin. Really, how much room does a few pairs of tiny sunglasses take up? D also keeps his “spy goggles” (binoculars) in there.
The famous “Busy Bag” still has its own bin, but the portable DVD player got the boot (we keep it stored in the van now, so it’s always there for long trips). |
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| The Moby wrap never had its own bin before (it had a basket), so it got a little upgrade. I also added the toddler leash, since C is just about ready for it (she’s taking a few steps, but not racing around yet).
Darling Husband also got his very own bin for baseball caps, since ’tis the season for lawn-mowing and other hat-requiring activities. |
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| The shoe bins stayed the same, and that has been a GREAT system. No matter what the season, D can dump his snowy boots or sandy sneakers into his bin, and everything can drip onto the mat below. He is responsible for putting his shoes away every single time we come inside, as well as hanging up his own coat (hook is not visible in this pic), and putting his hat, mittens, sunglasses, etc. away. |
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| Look up, look waaaaay up. I did some re-jigging with these bins. Now we have one for snowpants (way up high, since we won’t need them until October or November), a straw bag I use for packing snacks for long car-trips, a bin for tote bags (we use these a lot for packing up clothes, diapers, etc.), a designated spot for me to toss my purse … |
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| … a bin for adult hats & mitts, a bin for kiddie hats & mitts, a bin for my scarves … |
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| … a bin for sunscreen and bugspray, and a bin for bubbles … |
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| Our custom key rack is still serving us well, although the hooks aren’t strong enough to hold car keys (Darling Husband keeps his in his pants pocket/on his dresser, and I keep mine in my purse). We frequently use the loose house keys and the shed key, through, and we’ve been good about putting them back afterwards. |
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| We only keep our “current” coats in the closet, and the out-of-season ones are stored in our master closet. However, all snowpants, gloves, mitts, hats, etc. are stored in this closet regardless of season. |
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| Little C has so many pairs of shoes (mostly hand-me-downs) because her feet are so tiny and odd-shaped (she has meatballs, as Lindsey used to say about J’s feet). We never know what shoe we can coax her feet into! |
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| Our closet, as it looks today! |
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| { Pin this! } |
Thanks for checking out our hall closet “tweak.” We’ve been really happy with the space, and since we go into it about 56,132 times a day — for shoes, coats, sunscreen, keys, you name it — it’s important to me that it’s functional AND cute. That way I don’t get cranky when the doors get left open! 🙂
xoxo
Something real on a Sunday night
When you’re a “mommy blogger,” sometimes it feels like there isn’t really a place — on your little corner of the internet — for you to be sad sometimes.
We blog about recipes (and recipe fails). We blog about crafty projects and DIY projects. We blog about our babies’ milestones and the funny things our toddlers say. When we show pictures of our houses, they’re always taken immediately after we’ve cleaned and picked up the toys — except for the occasional “messy house” photo we may post under the guise of “keepin’ it real.”
The closest we ever get to REAL-real is when we do those occasional posts about how we are overwhelmed and overtired. When we’re fed up with the constant housecleaning or burdened by our careers and can’t handle the stress of “having it all.” When we want sympathy or empathy or a pat on the back.
These posts are few and far between — posted when we really are at our wits’ end — and then we go back to our sunny Instagram-y happy posts about glueguns and slowcookers and toddler antics.
There have been so many times lately when I wanted to post something real, but didn’t. I will freely admit that this blog feels different than it did four years ago, when I started out. I was just a newly-married professional, desperately waiting for my time to have a baby. No one knew about the blog, because it was my secret space for writing about my dreams of starting a family. I could say anything I wanted. And I did. And it was liberating.
Now, my husband and I have two amazing children that make us unbelievably happy every single day. My career has gone in the direction I wanted (writing, self-employment). And the followers of this little blog continue to amaze me with their support. But it’s no longer a secret, private blog. It’s become an extension of my freelance career — and, as much as I hate it, that comes with a filter.
A post about sadness is not exactly Pinnable. It’s not easily Tweeted about, or teased with an Instagram photo. It’s hard to fit a post about sadness in between a sponsored posts about teething necklaces and a cheerful ditty about your latest Pinterest recipe fail. It just doesn’t fit. So we don’t do them.
I hope this doesn’t come across badly, or like I’m living/sharing a lie (I’m definitely not). Social media does a very accurate job of depicting my day-to-day life — what I wear, what I cook or bake, what activities I do with the kids, where we go, how I decorate or organize the house, what projects I’m working on, how my work is going, what Darling Husband and I are doing. It’s all right there. That is truly my life, and I love it. I love that it’s documented. And I love keeping up with the lives of my friends — both IRL and virtual — through these channels.
The trouble is, sometimes it’s easy to forget where that “social media” persona stops. It’s also easy to forget how to deal with feelings that you can’t put out there. Can’t Tweet about it. Can’t blog about it. Can’t Facebook about it. Certainly can’t Instagram a photo of you staring into space, as you realize that you can’t say any of the things you are thinking.
Talking to a friend sounds like the clear answer, but that’s not so easy, either. So much of our communication today is through texting and emailing and Facebook-messaging and Skyping. Even phone calls are kind of archaic now. When we’re together in person, there are zillions of our babies and tiny children who need to be fed and cleaned and kept alive. It feels like we never get to have real, uninterrupted conversations. Even if we could, who’s to say the shiny, tidy, “social media presence” would actually take a backseat? Who’s to say we could stop talking the easy, fun conversation about our kids, and talk about anything deeper? I honestly don’t know if I would want that, or if I could do it.
It’s just that it’s a strange feeling to share so much of your life — with friends, family, and total strangers — and still have leftover feelings that you have nowhere to put.
It’s poising your fingers above the keyboard and realizing you’ll censor yourself if you even try.
It’s staring at your phone and realizing you definitely can’t Tweet right now, because what could you possibly say?
It’s listening to the hum of your computer and typing out a post like this one.
(Thanks for listening)
xoxo
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Heather's Handmade Life 