Subversive Mom: Super Ninja Secret Agent

I think my best accomplishment since becoming a mother is my ability to tidy up in our shared room while Zuul naps in her crib.

While it's perfectly normal, and often advisable, to do chores while the toddler naps, everybody underestimates the stealth required to do everything in an unpredictable sleep period, especially right under sleeping child's nose.  Things often go bump, there are outside noises, and sneezes and coughs happen.  The odds are stacked heavily against the clumsy person, which is what I was pre-baby.

What I think I'm like.

But I have overcome those obstacles these 12 months.  I have managed laundry, bed making, sweeping, meal prep, dusting, showering (airplane showers, of course.  You know, under the wings and the cockpit.) and have figured out the household acoustics to be able to vacuum the playroom, all within earshot of Zuul.

What I'm really like.

I have ducked and hidden behind furniture when she stirs, as babies are restless little sleepers, I have aborted missions upon feeling that all too familiar tickle in my throat - the warning of the coughing that about to occur, and mine sure is loud and vicious sounding for someone so petite (I'd add "and demure", but who am I kidding).  I can silently mouth "FUCK FUCK FUCK" while I writhe in pain after stubbing my toe for the umpteenth time on the nursing chair.  I can even, on occasion, get a little me time afterwards if she naps well.

Who I think I'm like.

I feel so confident about this skill that I may just add it to my resume.  You never know when sneaky and invisible, cat-like agility might be required from an office manager.  It might even allow me to level up to Executive Assistant --- assuming I ever go back to my old career path.  I'm still secretly hoping I can pad our family's income upcycling furniture, street-side selling our organic produce & free range eggs (A very competitive market in the Greater Victoria area, southwest of Langford especially.)

Who I'm really like.

So today, May the Fourth, I'm celebrating my graduation from Padawan to Jedi, of course.

Who I think I'm like.

 May the Fourth be with you.

Who I'm really like.

Lil' Ass Kisser

When Zuul woke up from her morning nap today, I took her upstairs to say hi to grandma, as she hadn't seen her yet.

Grandma met us at the top of the stairs and energetically greets Zuul while bending forward for a kiss, which Zuul offers emphatically.

Subversive Dad sees this and watches Zuul offer second and third sloppy baby kisses. He's a bit hurt because the rest of us have to beg for kisses, but Zuul's no dummy. She knows grandma is responsible for ALL THE THINGS! A good majority of her new books, toys and clothes appear on an almost weekly basis --- and this kid knows how to play grandma's shopaholicism to her advantage.

Subversive Dad gets a surprise though. Zuul leans towards him. He leans in expecting his overdue kisses. Unfortunately, Zuul's misunderstood. It was his toast she was after, nothing else.

Subversive Children's Programing Analysis

We're big on TV in this house, no matter what the experts say.   I pay attention the the kids shows I let Zuul watch, and the good majority are either quite educational or encourage physical activity, but, I admit, some I am giving the side eye of judgement to.  Here's why.

Toopy and Binoo:

Normally, I'd be very excited about an openly gay interracial couple on Treehouse, but Toopy's a bit of a self centered ego maniac, and 90% of the stories would end quickly if Toopy would just let Binoo talk. I can't help but believe this is an unhealthy, controlling relationship. Nothing I want my daughter influenced by.

Handy Manny

As a Latina woman, I had my issues with this show at the beginning. Really, Disney Jr.? A Mexican handyman? Not the town lawyer or doctor? HOW STEREOTYPICAL!!! But then their song "Hop Up, Jump In" came on and made me jump up and salsa, so all is forgiven.

Max and Ruby / Stella and Sam

OMG, Where are the parents? And, more importantly, where's the adult supervision?

I guess I might be projecting a bit. My brother and I were latch key kids. He is also almost 7 years younger than me, so I did a lot of "watching my brother". And, by watching, I mean I stayed in and watched TV while he ran around the neighbourhood.

 I developed bratty brother senses though. I always knew when he was up to no good and ran to his rescue as one in charge should be, but it doesn't take away that we were both far too young to be left at home without any adult supervision many a time.  But, enough about me being a shitty underage babysitter and my parents making terrible child care choices.

In the case of Max and Ruby, Ruby is clearly raising her little brother. The grandma appears every once in a while, but Ruby has obviously been thrown into a parental role at a very early age.  I assume her parents are doing time for running a meth lab.

As for Stella, does anyone else find her weirdly obsessed with her little brother?  Why doesn't she have friends her own age?  I find her isolation from her peer group to be concerning and sad.

Thomas and Friends

It's not you, it's me.  OK, it is you.  See, you have caused delays and confusion, so I need to move on.

Where Max, Ruby, Stella and Sam reminded far too much of my childhood, Thomas reminds me of an ex-boyfriend (or two). 

What a bunch of hypersensitive, whiny and overly competitive bunch.  (Never mind the creepy factor).   I wish I could dump the show, but Zuul has taken quite a liking to it, and her cousins are obsessed.  At least it's not Twilight.

Maybe Thomas & Friends are preparing them for the hostile work environments of their futures?  Maybe Zuul will realize they're not that great and throw a drink in their creepy train faces.  A mom can dream.

I'm pretty sure I've used up all my wishes with my Diaper Genie since Zuul started solids.

But you said 'Cookie'!!!

THIS IS A VERY CONFUSED DOG:

Zuul's 9-10 month span has been filled with milestone after milestone. Babbling, self feeding, crawling, tantrums and now climbing.

Of course, I realized I may have a problem early on when I'd say "let's got for a walk" to Zuul and the dog would jump and run to the door.

Oops.

But now I'm constantly breaking my dog's heart.

"Come to mama.... I was talking to Zuul, Ghost. Go lay down."
"Climb up! Come on, you can do it! .... NO, DOG! GET OFF THE COUCH/BED/ME!"
And the most heartbreaking sentence of all;
"Would you like a cookie?"  It's like psychological torture worthy of a lambasting from all the animal rights activist groups.

I guess I could be more specific and not actually say cookie, but, "would you like a banana flavoured rice rusk, Zuul?" doesn't have the same simplistic ring. I'm also sure "cookie" is easier to learn and say for a border-line toddler than "rice rusk" or "wagon wheel shaped treat".

I could also treat my dog like the older sibling she is and start being fair and making sure to give their treats at the same time like one would in a multi-child household.  However, that's just one more item I need to remember along with bibs, sippy cups, wet wipes, toys, baby... Never mind the amount of times I've almost handed the baby cat food instead of cereal the morning after a sleepless night. I know it's just a matter of time before I mindlessly give my daughter a beefy bone shaped biscuit.

Of course, Zuul and I could just get used to a big white dog leading by example. That's a nice spin on things, isn't it?

Sure beats saddest dog in the pacific west coast.

Irony

Irony is running to move potted plant, filled with dangerous stones to choke on that crawling baby is aiming for, only to knee her in the head in the scramble to save her.

Boys in Cars

I’m walking the dog tonight, when a car full of young men pulls up and roll down the windows.

“Hey, cutie!”

Aw geeze, I think to myself. It’s been a while, and I’m in my dog-walking-in-the-rain-gear, but my make up was on nice, so, maybe? I don’t like it when guys do this, especially at night, but this might be my first genuine cat call, post baby.

“You out for a pee? Oh you are a pretty pup, aren’t you.”




You hear that?

That was the sound of my ego shattering.

Goodbye, frumpy mom.

I have decided:

- I am done with looking the part of broke new stay at home mom. I will be typecast no more.

- I am mostly saying this because, as strong as I think I am, my scalp is my Achilles Heel. I love my baby girl, and would not hurt her ever, but every time she pulls my hair I want to pull hers back. The thought is there. Pain makes me go to dark, sinister places, I guess. Places I have not been since kindergarden. There can be only one solution --- pixie cut.

Tomorrow, I will be dying my hair (or attempting to) a fun bright purple. This weekend, over 10 years of long hair is getting lopped off.

This may also inspire a domino effect of wearing make up again, doing my nails and maybe even working out.

Or, I will be forever regretful and still look a disaster and Zuul, Subversive Dad, dog, cat and society as a whole, will all reject me. I could become The Phantom of Vancouver Island, living in the notorious pentagram shaped tunnels that run under Victoria, playing haunting songs on Zuul's Elmo keyboard I will take with me.

Regardless of the outcome, the mom hair is coming.

Subversive Parent Double Standards

My 'one good thing today': Grandpa had time to watch Zuul while I had a little shop therapy.

We're presently living near a high school. Walking home from my baby escape, I noticed a sign posted on a telephone pole.

"Don't like homework? I DO!!!"

Then the details to get homework done for a cost.

Now, Zuul is no where near school age, so I have a while to worry about such shenanigans. But, I had to ask myself, if I busted her paying someone to do her homework, would I be upset? Yup! Grounded 'til grad. Big life lessons regarding cheating and responsibility.

But if she were the one who offered to exchange homework for money? The responsible parent in me would, of course, reprimand. I have to admit, though, I'd be a bit proud of her entrepreneurial spirit and that she actually likes homework. Certainly not a trait she'll be inheriting from me. I would probably even start asking her for financial and career advice.

Monday Confessional

Oops! I'm a day late.

I was out of washcloths and baby wipes after Zuul's lunch yesterday, so I called the dog over to help clean her up.

Sunday Confessional

The first "lullaby" I sang to Zuul was Pink Floyd's "Mother". It was the only song I could remember the lyrics to. Even though I named her after a song. Those sweet lyrics escaped me. "Mother" though? Like I was in high school, watching The Wall on repeat with my clique of band/art/film geeks all over again.

If you're wondering what the big deal is, go Google the lyrics and get back to me.

Creepy mom is creepy.

Zuul's going to be so fucked up.


***

And, with that, I'll be very pressed for time the next few days. We move in with Grandma and Grandpa on Thursday all the way over on Vancouver Island until we sell our Mainland home. Grandma & grandpa do not have wifi either. I write most of these blogs from my non-Bluetooth iPad while Zuul naps or plays next to me. Pro. Grandma and grandpa are very eager to help and play with Zuul, leaving me with more me time, but Con, only one computer to share between four people, therefore, OMG SO LOST WITH OUT MY SOCIAL NETWORKS!!!

I guess I'll finally be catching up on some knitting and exercise.

Wish me luck! I'm going to miss my home very, very much.

How Do You Make God Laugh?

When I was pregnant, I decided I was going to use my maternity leave to get fit.

REALITY: My workouts consist of walking the dog, pushing a stroller and lots of reps of lifting a 14+ pound weight that is my daughter. I'm sure my cardio will increase once she's crawling and walking. I'm counting on that.

I was going to cook fresh, wholesome, organic food from scratch.

REALITY: Well, I have frozen fish & chips in the oven right now. Last night, frozen meat pies, the night before, Subway. Lather, rinse, repeat. Our pizza delivery guy's name is Assim.

I was going to dedicate one day a week to dress sexy for Subversive Dad.

REALITY: I hope he finds yoga pants, spit up stained nursing tops and hairy legs sexy, because that's as good as it's going to get for a while.

I was going to volunteer for various community services while wearing Zuul.

REALITY: Apparently, pouring hot soup while baby wearing is pretty dangerous and frowned upon heavily. And it's really hard to mentor youth when you can't hear each other speak over screaming infant. Not like I can say anything deep and inspirational with three hours sleep anyway, so it's just as well.

I was going to pad the income by starting a pet sitting business.

REALITY: It's scary enough to walk my own dog when I have the baby, as she has moments of losing her fucking mind with excitement if she spots a friend. As for my cat, she's completely given up on me for pretty much anything and is now 100% daddy's cat. Taking care of other peoples pets is no longer feasible.

With the extra income I would have made pet sitting, I was going to redecorate my home repurposing and upcycling second hand furniture.

REALITY: I'm lucky if Zuul lets me do a load of laundry most days. Redecorating? FFFFUUUUU NATE BURKUS!!!

Three Cheers for Striking Mom? Discuss!

Fellow Canuckistani blogger, Striking Momis all over tv today for documenting what happens when a neat freak mom loses it and goes on strike, making the entire household live in filth to prove a nasty point. That's right. She purposely fucked her habitat and invited the world to see in an effort to shame her kids into cleaning... and it worked.

I was a terrible slob as a kid. A procrastinator, I have slob moments still. The best my mom did to try and get me to clean my room was muppet flail and tell me she saw a snake in there. One of her best performances, but an epic fail as I actually like snakes. All that motivated me to do was build a terrarium and move a few things around in hopes to find my new slithery friend. She could have paid better attention to my phobias and told me she saw spiders in there instead, but chances are I would have either moved out or committed arson rather than clean. Of course, this was before the internet. Zuul only being 5 months old, the verdict is out on how I'll handle her if the fruit flies don't fly far from the tree.

So, two questions.

1) Do you agree with publicly shaming your children?

and

2) How do you motivate your kids to do their chores, or, if yours is still too wee for chores like mine, best memory of how your parents handled your teenage slobbiness?

And, to prove my love for all things reptilian, here's a pic of me and my old friend, Jade. If you look close enough, you can see the dust glued to the fan in the background.

Halftone Humiliation