|Posted by Kirstin Parkin on March 2, 2015 at 8:40 PM||comments (0)|
I’m nursing yet another battle wound that I received simply because I’m your mother.
Miss M smashed me in the mouth with a toy while we were all in the bath tub together. It wasn’t intentional, but my tooth went through my lip and instantly my mouth was filled with blood. Miss B was mortified because I looked like I came straight from a horror film. You know when your teeth are coated in blood and your whole mouth looks like your about to die? That was how I looked to my three year old. Miss B was terrified and very mad at her sister for hurting her mommy. Miss M just laughed.
So I got to rock a fat split lip for three days, and even now on day four, its sore. And I’m reminded of how much abuse I take from you girls. I have had scabs on my face from your little finger nails gouging my skin, I’ve chosen wedding outfits based on what covers the teeth mark bruises on my arms. You have both ripped out clumps of may hair on numerous occasions. I am routinely kicked, jumped on, head butted and scratched. I’m surprised I still have my hearing left after the glass shattering screams that have blasted my ears. That is the stuff that people don’t tell you about parenting. How these little beings that you love more than anything in the world will lash out and hurt you when they’re really mad. Or bored. Or frustrated. Or sad. Or hungry. Or tired. Or just totally by accident.
I’m not sure if all kids lash out like mine do, but be rest assured that I certainly don’t tolerate it. While writing this, Miss M got a time out for pulling out a handful of her sisters hair.
That stuff doesn’t fly with me but it happens whether I allow it or not.
Thanks to these tantrums, I’ve had to reconsider my whole parenting philosophy because what I was doing wasn’t working. When Miss B was about 12 months old, she started biting me. Breastfeeding bites are one of the worst things ever. EVER. Same with the soft skin of your inner arm or when they bite down on your finger when you try to sweep a choking hazard out of their mouth and they wont let go. I tried everything to stop her biting, but NOTHING worked. Until I bit her back.
For the record, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT, but apparently my kids learn by consequence because once she experienced the pain of being bitten, she stopped. It was a friggin miracle.
Now when she lashes out at me, all I need to say is ‘do you want me to do it to you?’ because she knows I will. We don’t spank in our house, but I reserve the right to use self defence. Judge me if you want, but I have slapped my kids back when they hit me and let me tell you, they hate it.
I have never spanked as punishment, but I have to educate my kids on consequences and remind them that their mommy is a person and has feelings too. My husband and I decided to teach them that if they hit someone, they will likely get hit back. It’s a good life lesson in my opinion. I am working on teaching them not to hit in the first place, but that is part of the evolution of education, and a lesson that will continue to be taught until it is learned.
My intention in writing this, isn’t to make my kids to feel guilty one day when they read this, or for the world to think that I’m complaining about my spirited daughters, because I don’t mean to do those things.
I can (and will) write one day about the incredibly sweet, kind things that fill motherhood too, like having your daughter play with your hair, or give you a big hug when her sister hurts me, or asking me how my day was. There are so many examples of kindness in our kids, and even though this blog post is about the painful side of parenting, I know I’m not alone in the trenches. I know I’m not the only one with battle wounds. And I know I’m not the only one who wouldn’t trade it for the world.
|Posted by Kirstin Parkin on March 28, 2014 at 3:00 AM||comments (0)|
When I was a young teen, I ruined Christmas. I pre-opened every single present that I could find in our house. I was sneaky too. I’d use a razor blade to slice the tape and then I'd reseal it with perfect precision. I not only opened mine, but everyone else’s too. I ruined Christmas. And I only made that mistake once.
It’s hard to have patience. If it was easy, everyone would do it. Patience is wisdom in waiting. I hate being patient. It has NEVER been my strong suit, however, ruining Christmas ’cured’ me of being impatient. I can wait now. I waited for my husband to marry me. I waited to have babies. Waiting is easy. Having the patience to wait for a surprise is hard, but the surprise is usually worth the wait. Especially when you're pregnant.
My grandmother always told me that learning the gender of your baby was the biggest surprise that life will give you. She encouraged me to wait until my labour day to find out if a son or daughter would be our blessing. She died before Miss B was born, but I listened to her. We went the whole pregnancy answering people that asked if we knew what we were having. ’A Baby’ was my tongue-in-cheek reply. My mom generously offered to pay for a 3D ultrasound, but the idea of seeing our baby before his or her birthday was not for us. I spent my pregnancy thinking of boy and girls names, and decorating the nursery with greys and yellows with hints of green. I was good with that. The only thing I knew FOR SURE was that I wanted my husband to tell me gender. It just wouldn’t be the same hearing it from our doctor or a nurse. Hubby had to tell me.
Flash forward until I was 15 hours through a late night labour, 8 hours on the epidural and 4 hours into pushing, that moment happened. And my mind went blank. When the pain was over (I had a high epidural, so I felt all the tearing, crowning, ring of fire etc. Fun eh?) and that purplish, grey goopy baby was put on my chest, I had nothing. The only thing that was going through my head was ‘its over’ as I looked at this mass of black goopy hair. I heard nothing, time stopped. Then my husband broke through my shock with ‘ it’s a girl!’ “It’s a girl!!???”
That was the biggest moment in my life. I still get goose bumps when I tell the story.
We did it again two years later.
I expected a boy this time based on having a totally different pregnancy, but ultimately I teetered between imagining what our life would be like having two daughters versus a daughter and a son. Not so secretly, I was happy imagining two girls, because, well, I know girl stuff . I was terrified of having a son. They scare the hell out of me. But I knew I would get over it as soon as he was born because love is unconditional. I can pretend to like worms and trucks and baseball. We can buy all new baby boy stuff cause putting a boy in a pink excersizer or sleeper is socially unacceptable. I can figure out how to change a poopy blow out diaper when there's a penis to work around. No problem..... Flash forward, 4 hours later, with 20 minutes of pushing....
“It’s a girl!!!”
*Shout out to my fellow mommies out there that find out gender ~ all the love and respect! I LOVE when my friends find out the gender of their babies (& tell me!). This is our story
|Posted by Kirstin Parkin on March 5, 2014 at 11:45 PM||comments (0)|
I moved to our town on the coast of B.C when I was six. My dad took a transfer for his job and we left our small town in the interior to come here. Six years later, I was twelve, and my dad hired a new truck employee. Mr K was seventeen and the most handsome man I had ever seen..... but I was twelve... awkward, pimply and still a little kid. As the years passed, Mr K and My Brother became friends. As more time passed, he and I became friends as well. I went off to college and came back a year later, in time to celebrate my nineteenth birthday. Well, to say the least, I wasn't twelve anymore!! As soon as I figured out that I had a shot with him, I went for it! He had to make sure that my dad and my brother approved first. Total Gentleman. We've been together ever since, which is almost eleven years. The quote that I wrote in the picture is true. In my husband, I know true love. I'm incredibly fortunate to experience it. I never realized that there was a totally different category for love until Miss B was born. Miss M doubled it. It's totally different, yet so much the same. That's what I wish for my daughters - to have love fill their lives too. http://pinterest.com/pin/202591683211259287/
|Posted by Kirstin Parkin on March 2, 2014 at 1:25 AM||comments (1)|
The strongest tool a person can have is self-esteem. Those who believe in themselves are truly unstoppable. If I can remind even a few people that they are worthy and capable, then I will share this poem that I wrote in 2006. Copywrite 2013
Today I am okay
Tomorrow's just another day.
I won't worry about what's to come
Or what's already been either,
I will find the beat of my own drum
Living life all the wiser.
I will compliment myself Today
And take credit where its due,
I am strong enough come what may
Today I start anew.
I will find my inner light Today
And grow from within,
I will find any excuse to play
Not considering it a sin.
I will laugh and dance and smile today
And make someone else feel good,
I'll let my imagination take me away
And remove all of the 'should's'
I will feel pride Today
With the good things I have done,
Not letting guilt get the final say
Today I know I've won.
I'm pretty and smart and funny Today
And I'm worth whatever the cost,
I'm 'perfecly perfect' as they say
In myself I'm no longer lost.
There's a light glowing inside me Today
That allows me to shine so bright,
And I know that I'm already okay
Today self esteem is my right.