Sometimes you just need to take a deep breath.

Take the other morning for example.
I am trying to leave the house for work early in the morning on one of those really cold days. You know the kind. Where you just want to shrink down into your parka like a turtle into it’s shell.

Eldest Daughter is starting to loose it. “Mommy, I will sure miss you when you’re gone. Mommy, you know why I’ll miss you? Because you’re not here.” And then the tears start and the lower lip gets all puffy and we start the 10 minutes of hugs at the door. “ok, last hug, mommy has to go.” “ok, last hug, daddy is waiting” and I’m inching closer to the door. By the time she starts really sobbing I have one foot out the door and cold air is swirling around us. She is begging for “one more hug”. She pleads “Mommy, make me feel better mommy” and she’s frantic now and I say “I don’t think I can make you feel better sweetie” and now she is blubbering and I have top make her repeat it twice “Make me take a deep breath, Mommy”.
OK, this is different, I think. So I bend over in the doorway, cold air rushing around us and hold her in my arms and tell her to breath deep and we stay in the doorway, breathing deeply together for a minute until she’s calm enough to finally let go. And I move out the door into the world and she retreats back into the house to have breakfast in her pyjamas.

Favourite Bowl.

Coming home from a potluck I was ballancing 2 bowls and a backpack in one hand while carrying a baby bucket in the other hand while looking behind me at the 4 year old. Well, it didn't work, the bowls slipped and crashed onto the sidewalk. There was quinoa salad everywhere and jagged reamins of my favourite large serving bowl. I use (used) that bowl for everything. We got it as a wedding present 10 years ago, and, looking on the bright side of the tragedy, I should say that it did last 10 years which is pretty good.

And the thought came to me as I stared at the remains that this is just like motherhood. Trying to carry too many things at the same time. Eventually something is going to slip. Hopefully my partner will come rushing out to help clean up when it does, just like he did with my favourite bowl.

Bad Mother of The Year Award

Yes, officially, I am the Bad Mother of the Year.
At least according to the people at the coffee shop yesterday.
Now, I've not wanted to blog about potty training because I know my 2 readers probably aren't interested in more talk about poop. One because he's had enough converations about poop to last a lifetime, the other because she hasn't had those conversations yet, and still might decide to have kids one day if we don't scare her off first. But (sadly) the topic bodily functions keeps coming up in our household, so here goes.
Yes, I might be the Worst Mother Ever. That's what the teenege girls who man the coffee shop thought as I nonchalantly conversed with a friend as my eldest daughter bellowed from the bathroom. They seemed genuinely concerned that someone had left their child alone in the bathroom in obvious disstress.
"I was waiting for her to ASK for help" I said as I brushed by them on the way to Rescue.
"One day You'll understand".
Indeed, one day their kid will probably stick out their tongue and say something like "I don't want to be your friend anymore", to which you will say "ok", and walk away, and wait until they decide they need you again. You will wait until they really want it and are yelling loudly. And you'll ge the Bad Parent Award, too.