8 years and counting

Yesterday was my 8 year wedding anniversary with Eddie, my wonderful, amazing, perfect husband. All in all, we've been together for 10 and a half years, and to be honest, I think a lot of people are surprised. Our relationship wasn't exactly your typical run of the mill boy meets girl story. Here's a quick recap:

We met in December of 1997 at a house party thrown by someone who was a friend of separate friends. Both of us were on the heels of pretty intense break-ups with our long-time significant others and weren't exactly in the best emotional shape to jump into a new relationship. On top of that, Eddie was only in town for a week before he had to head back to school 6 hours away. But for some reason (fate?) we were drawn to each other at that party and have been together ever since. After spending all but one of his remaining days in Montreal together, we decided to go ahead and try to give the long-distance thing a shot. Pretty bold move for people who barely knew each other. Everyone around us was skeptical, throwing around the opinion that it was a "rebound" relationship for both of us that was doomed to fail from the get-go. Amazingly, but not without a mountains of enormous phone bills and many miles wracked up on our cars, we made it work for over 2 years.

When Eddie graduated from university in 2000 he came back home and moved in with me. I can still remember counting down the days! I had graduated the previous year and was working at a job that I loathed. We lived in a small apartment downtown for a couple of months and then our lives took another turn. He got offered a job in San Diego, CA. This was the first of many life changing decisions we eventually made together. With nothing really tying us to Montreal, we decided to take the plunge and move to the US. Another bold move, this time for two people who hadn't even lived together for more than a two months!

Upon our arrival in San Diego, we made another huge decision, one that shocked many people and got us in deep trouble with our families once the truth finally came out 5 months later. We decided to get married and keep it a secret. The reasons why we did it were so clear at the time and yet seem totally murky to me now. Part of it was because I needed to have a visa to legally be allowed in the country (he obtained one through the company he was going to be working for) and by being married I could get a "spouse's visa" quickly and without hassle. But another part of it was because we were so incredibly happy to finally be together after 2 and a half years of waiting. It was as if we were so crazy in love that we wanted to do everything all at once. So just 4 days after our plane landed in San Diego, we went to City Hall on Eddie's 24th birthday and tied the knot. No one was there but the justice of the peace and a girl from the office that they brought in to be a witness. The decision to keep it a secret was made because we were afraid of being judged, afraid that our families would disapprove or feel left out. While I don't regret getting married at that time at all, I do regret keeping it from the people that we love. But that's a topic for a whole other post...

When we did finally tell everyone what we had done, they were quite disappointed in us, and once again skeptical that we could make it work. But boy have we proved them wrong! In 2001 we bought our first home and filled it first with a couple of dogs and later in 2004 with our first child. In 2006 I got pregnant again and low and behold, another major decision was made, this time to move back to Montreal. In June 2006, after 6 years in the US, we made our way back to Montreal and finally it seemed like everyone could see how strong our relationship really was. In September of that year our second child was born. And now, after 8 years of marriage, I am once again pregnant with another beautiful baby. Our family is growing and is happier than ever.

Our relationship has had its ups and downs just like any other, and when I think about it, we have definitely gone through a lot in the past 10 years, including dating long distance, getting married, having kids, home buying and selling, and job gaining and losing on both of our parts. And yet, our relationship is as strong as it has ever been and I honestly believe that we will grow old and gray together. I cannot for a minute imagine my life without Eddie. And I really don't want to. I think that for us the secret is that neither of us have really changed. We are still the same people we were back when we met at 19 and 21. We were sure of who we were and what we wanted and that hasn't changed, even a decade later.

We are hoping to renew our wedding vows for our 10th wedding anniversary in 2010, this time surrounded by all of the family and friends that support us and love us, as well as our children. I never got proposed to, never had an engagement, never had a wedding dress, never got wedding photos, never got to dance a first dance. Given the chance to do it again, I would love for that day to not only be about Eddie and I, but about the family we have created. I would love to not only make vows to each other, but to our children as well. It would be so beautiful. And if I had a choice, this would be the song I would play as our first dance. I'm not a Shania Twain fan by any means, but these lyrics really couldn't be more appropriate, don't you think?


You're Still The One

(When I first saw you, I saw love. And the first time you touched me, I felt
love. And after all this time, you're still the one I love.)

Looks like we made it
Look how far we've come my baby
We mighta took the long way
We knew we'd get there someday

They said, "I bet they'll never make it"
But just look at us holding on
We're still together still going strong

(You're still the one)
You're still the one I run to
The one that I belong to
You're still the one I want for life
(You're still the one)
You're still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You're still the one I kiss good night

Ain't nothin' better
We beat the odds together
I'm glad we didn't listen
Look at what we would be missin'

They said, "I bet they'll never make it"
But just look at us holding on
We're still together still going strong

(You're still the one)
You're still the one I run to
The one that I belong to
You're still the one I want for life
(You're still the one)
You're still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You're still the one I kiss good night

(You're still the one)
You're still the one I run to
The one that I belong to
You're still the one I want for life
(You're still the one)
You're still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You're still the one I kiss good night

I'm so glad we made it
Look how far we've come my baby

Ideal spacing

I was at the park yesterday riding the see-saw with Nicki. A woman and her grandson sat down on the one beside us and said hello. She noticed that I was pregnant, looked at Nicki and then said, "That's the perfect spacing between the two!" While in the past I have found comments like this annoying, these days nothing seems to bug me. I honestly replied, "Actually I have another one in between!" and pointed over to Gabe who was across the park. Her eyes widened and she said "Wow, that's a busy house!" to which I just smiled and laughed.

That conversation got me thinking last night about what the "ideal" spacing of children really is. I suppose it really depends on each individual family, though I can see pros and cons to both having children close together and having them further apart. It would seem that having them spaced further apart would make things easier in the sense that the older child would be more independent by the time the next baby came around. But on the other hand, the kids could be less likely to play together and could quite possibly have very little in common depending on how many years separated them.

There are just over 7 years separating my brother and I, and truth be told, we didn't really play together much. I wished for a younger sibling to play with and was disappointed when my parents decided I was the last child they would be having. When it came time to have my own kids, I thought that a 2 1/2 to 3 year spacing between them would be perfect. As it worked out, there are just under 2 years separating Nicki and Gabe, and Gabe and the new baby will be almost exactly 2 years apart, with only a couple of weeks separating my due date from Gabe's 2nd birthday.

So we ended up having subsequent kids a little sooner after the first than we had originally thought, but so far it has worked out well. Maybe it's because Nicki has always been so mature for her age that the 23 month age gap between her and Gabe has always seemed much wider. I'm more worried this time about how small the gap will be, since Gabe is less verbal than Nicki was at the same age. On the other hand, he is much more independent than she is even now, and he of course has her to play with, so maybe the addition of a new baby will actually be smoother than I think. Only time will tell... I have been told that the third child is actually the easiest one of all, because the constant action of the older two keeps them entertained!

Many people have commented on how close together we decided to have our kids, saying that it must be very difficult. I'm quick to remind them that what works for one family may not work for another, and besides, I know people with 3 kids born even closer together than ours that are doing just great (you know I'm talking about you Grace!)

In the end I guess you adapt and adjust to whatever spacing you choose or whatever hand you are dealt. No one family is better or worse, closer or more distant, calmer or more chaotic than any other. Everyone finds their own rhythm, their own speed, their own flow. I am looking forward to welcoming a new life into this world and into our ever growing family. I know that having 3 very young children will be a mixture of joy and frustration, but I'm up for the challenge!

Magical meltdowns

It is so amazing to me how young kids can walk away from a meltdown as if nothing ever happened. They just move on with no residual frustration, no lingering anger or resentment. I can't help but wonder what goes on inside those little minds...

A couple of days ago I heard Nicki begin to rustle around toward the end of her nap. Then suddenly she began to cry, soft sniffles at first which promptly escalated into full on crying. This is extremely out of the ordinary for her, so I ran up to see what was wrong. When I walked into her room, her quilt was completely disheveled and partially over her head. I went over and peeked under it and she began to wail saying "Mommy, go away!" I knelt down next to the bed and told her that I had heard her crying on the monitor and was worried about what was wrong. She said that she was frustrated because her quilt had fallen off the bed and she couldn't get it back on properly. I suggested that we solve the problem by switching out the quilt for her lighter fleece blanket instead (it was getting to hot for that quilt anyway!) She agreed to this, but continued to sniffle.

I opened up her blinds and she saw that it was a sunny afternoon. She asked me if we could go swimming in the kiddie pool, but I said no because we had swam in the pool the two previous days and it was scheduled to rain for the rest of the week, so I wanted to take advantage of the weather and head out to the park. I explained to her that Gabe loves the park as much as she loves the pool and that we have to take turns doing each so that they can both be happy. This was met with a huge tantrum, including "BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE PARK! I'M NOT GOING!" followed by an avalanche of tears and the stomping of feet. I can't even begin to explain how out of character this is for her. I did my best to keep my composure and tell her that we were all going to the park together and that we could swim in the pool another day. Then I told her that I was leaving the room and closing the door and that she could come out when she was all done crying and ready to play.

After a few minutes of full-on screaming and stomping (during which time Gabe announced "Nicki crying! Gabe hug!"), she emerged from her room and sweetly asked if she could come out and play. I asked her if she was done with her tantrum and she said yes, so I gave her a hug and the 3 of us played together for a little while before leaving for the park. I watched her closely during that time, and amazingly there was no sign of the meltdown that had just occurred. She was happy and smiling and playing, and even mentioned with enthusiasm that maybe we would see some friends at the park because it was such a nice day.

I was completely stumped (albeit relieved!) by the sudden turnaround. How could she go from an utter loss of emotional control to being perfectly content within the space of a few minutes? I have to admit, I was a bit jealous. When I breakdown, the feelings of frustration seem to linger around for hours, tainting the rest of my day. How glorious it would be to be able to lock myself in a room for a few minutes of screaming, tear shedding and foot stomping and then emerge feeling like a new woman, refreshed and rejuvenated and ready to move on! Maybe these kids are on to something!!

Food fight

I will be the first to admit that Gabe has never been, and probably never will be, the hearty eater that Nicki is. While Nicki is pretty much willing to eat, or at least try, anything that is placed in front of her, Gabe on the other hand takes things to the other extreme. And lately it has only gotten worse. These days his diet consists of the following:

-Milk
-Bread (and any bread-like product such as bagels or english muffins)
-Cereal: Cheerios/All Bran/Oatmeal Squares
-Fruit, fruit and more fruit
-Peanut butter
-Cheese Whiz (sometimes)

And that's all! It's scary to me that he can exist and be fully nourished on this type of diet. I'm just thankful that, at the very least, all of the food groups have a representing item on that list. But he doesn't eat any meat at all, any vegetables at all, any pasta at all, any rice at all. It's not just a "healthy food" thing either. On our rare splurges with less than healthy food, we have discovered that he won't go anywhere near pizza or even french fries. In fact just last week when I made brownies and Nicki was happily licking the batter off the spatula, I approached him with a batter-covered spatula of his own and he literally ran away from me crying. Never in my life have I met a child who didn't jump at the chance to lick a chocolate covered spatula!

At every meal we always put a small amount of everything we are eating on his plate. He will eat the bread and fruit and drink the milk, but won't even touch the rest. Actually that's not true; he will will pick up the other items, name them and then drop them with disgust and disdain back into his plate, leaving them to be ignored for the rest of the meal. He certainly isn't lacking in examples, because Nicki sits right in front of him eating everything, even occasionally saying "Look Gabe! It's good!" It isn't a lack of hunger issue either, because if we keep giving him bread or fruit he will continue to eat. If we try to put the undesired food into his mouth ourselves he will simply spit it out. Nicki has never spat food out in her life, even as a baby... What a difference.

My hope that continually putting the food in front of him might lead him to eventually branch out and try something is waning as of late, since his list of foods recently diminished again. He used to eat cheese, now he doesn't; he used to eat yogurt, now he doesn't; he used to eat veggie burger patties, now he doesn't; he used to eat peas, now he doesn't. When he first began eating table foods way back when, he would take the occasional nibble of meat here and there, maybe sample a noodle or two, or test out a carrot once in a while. But it's been ages since any of those foods have made it anywhere near his mouth, despite their continual reappearance on his plate.

It is incredibly frustrating to see him eat (or not eat) this way, since as a mom I am eternally concerned with my kids nutrition. I have to be honest though and say that he truly appears to be incredibly healthy and strong. Maybe I'm putting too much thought into this whole ordeal and should just take a step back and let him hopefully discover these foods in his own time. But it sure would give me a whole lot of hope if he'd just eat a noodle!

Mommy image part 2

Interestingly, after my last post, Nicki saw a woman applying her make-up in the locker room after swim class. As I brushed and tied her hair, she stared at the woman's reflection in the mirror for a while and then asked "Mommy, why is that lady drawing on her face?" The woman laughed and I replied that she was "putting on make-up" and that "some mommies like to do that." She then said "But Mommy, she shouldn't use pencils on her face, that's for drawing on paper!" So I explained to her that what she was using wasn't a regular pencil and that it was made from different things that were safe to put on your face. She seemed satisfied with that answer, but continued to study the woman intently as she finished up.

Not long after that, Nicki got out an old mirror that was in one of her toy bins and began pretending to put on make-up. She then announced to me that my own make-up must have "fallen off" and that she needed to put some more on me. I felt uncomfortable with this type of play, but I obliged anyway, not wanting to squelch her fun. In the end she said she was actually drawing pictures on my face (butterfly, Elmo, hearts, etc) which I found interesting, since she obviously equated the application of make-up with the face painting she has received in the past.

The next day she asked me why I never put any make-up on. I had been anticipating this question due to her recent interest and yet still felt unprepared to answer it. The last thing I wanted to do was pass judgment on anyone who does wear make-up by making it sound like they are insecure about their appearance. But I also didn't want to glorify the idea of cosmetics. I dread the thought of her turning into one of those teenage girls who is traumatized by the idea of stepping out of the house without putting make-up on her face. I answered her question by telling her that even though some women choose to wear make-up to feel more beautiful, I think that I look beautiful just the way I am without make-up, just like I think she looks beautiful just the way she is without make-up.

Thankfully my answer was accepted this time around, but I can't even imagine what I will do when she hits those "tween" years and starts to have friends who wear make-up and wants to do it too. I don't know if I should try to discourage it and risk making it more appealing or just let my own hang-ups on the topic go and let her do what she wants. I have no clue at what age (if any!) I would find the practice of wearing make-up acceptable. I already know that I'm overly strict and massively over-protective and that I should probably let this go in the end and pick my battles wisely. I just wish I knew how to impart on her a sense of the importance of inner beauty versus outward appearance and how to give her the confidence and self-esteem to view herself as naturally beautiful.

I think my husband put it best when he responded to my previous blog. He told me that "there is a beauty in simplicity" that he loves, which was music to my ears. So hopefully with a mother who doesn't spend hours in front of the mirror every day and a father who appreciates the value of natural beauty, Nicki will grow up to be confident in her appearance without ever having to give it a second thought. I guess only time will tell...

Mommy image

We recently borrowed a book from the library entitled "Just Like Mommy". I thought this would be a cute read for both kids, but hesitated after I read the content. In the end we brought it home because Gabe truly seemed to enjoy the repetition of the words "just like Mommy" on every page, but it has been grating on me ever since. On each page there is a drawing of a young girl doing the same things that her mother is doing and goes as follows:

"I have a necklace. I have earrings. Just like Mommy!"
"I have rouge. I have lipstick. Just like Mommy!"
"I have a bracelet. I have nail polish. Just like Mommy!"
"I have socks. I have shoes. Just like Mommy!"
"I have a comb. I have a hairbrush. Just like Mommy!"
"I have curls. I have bows. Just like Mommy!"
"I have a pocketbook. I'm going to work. Just like Mommy!"


I think that this book bothered me so much because almost none of it applies to me. In fact the shoes, socks and hairbrush were the only representative items of me on that list, and even then the "socks" were actually pantyhose and the "shoes" were high heeled ones, neither of which I have worn in ages. And no, I don't even own a pocketbook or wallet, I just throw my money into the sorry excuse for a purse that is hiding in the bottom of the diaper bag.

All this book has really done is make me even more self-conscious about the differences between me and so many other moms I see on a daily basis. After attending a few field trips with Nicki's preschool, I became painfully aware of how I actually look. It's kind of ironic actually, because I don't really have any major issues with my general appearance. I think I'm in pretty good shape and don't really have any complaints about about my body or face or hair etc. But I swear these other moms look like they just walked out of the hair, make-up and wardrobe area of a major motion picture. They always look perfect! And more and more lately I have been wondering how they do it.

I mean seriously. These moms have kids the same age as my kids. How in the world do they find the time to look so perfectly put together? I'm talking perfect hair, perfect make-up, perfect nails, perfect outfit. They wear fancy shoes, have fancy jewelery, carry fancy purses. Eddie thinks they must plop their kids in front of the tv while they take the time to primp in the morning or that they must have nannies. As for me well, to be honest I'd rather keep looking like I just rolled out of bed than do that. I shower at night after the kids are in bed. In the morning, I get Gabe dressed and then we all have breakfast as a family. Afterwards Nicki and I get ready together. We get dressed, brush our teeth and hair and wash our faces. Then we go back downstairs and play until it is time to venture out for the day.

So in reality I know in my head that I am making a conscious choice not to take the time to look that way, choosing instead to spend time with my kids rather than make myself "look good", and yet I wind up feeling crummy whenever I'm around these other moms who look so great. Me in my track pants and sneakers, with my ponytail and unmade face, with my too short nails and a diaper bag on my back. I can't help but feel beneath them, like a lower class citizen, like a frump. I wonder sometimes what they must think about me, if they feel sorry for me or even secretly laugh. I wonder sometimes what my husband must think, if he's sad that I don't take the time to "look like a woman", if he'll eventually start to see me as only a "mom" and nothing more. I wonder why I even care about this all of a sudden when it never used to cross my mind before. And then I snap back into reality and get down on the floor to play with my kids some more, knowing that I've made the right choice for me, appearances be damned.