The arsenic hour

One day, when Austin was the baby and I was having a bad afternoon with him, my mother used an old-fashioned expression that made me laugh. The arsenic hour.

She explained that the arsenic hour usually falls in the late afternoon -- sometime between 4 and 7 p.m. and is almost always before dinner -- when the kid (or kids) are wired and/or hungry and/or over-stimulated and can be annoying as hell. In other words, a perfect cocktail to drive any mother crazy.

The expression, she said, was one her mother used to use, and the part that made me laugh was when my mom said she was never sure if the arsenic hour meant the kids were so crazy you wanted to feed them arsenic or you wanted to take it yourself.

As I've been learning these past few months, having one baby is easy compared to having a baby and a two-year-old. With one baby, no matter how fussy he was being, I could still manage to get things done and retain my sanity. (Or at least, that's how my memory recalls events of two years ago.) Some days, retaining my sanity with two kids is not that easy.

My arsenic hour comes around 6 p.m.

This is the time that I'm usually trying to get dinner started as Ryan tends to get home between 6:30 and 7 and we almost always eat around the table as a family.

Preparing dinner means always having a 'helper' as Austin is going through a stage right now where he has to be involved in everything. (And I mean EVERYTHING. I can't go to bathroom some days without him wanting to come in with me and flush the toilet for me.) So, whatever I'm making in the kitchen, he has to get up on his stool and start 'helping'. Sometimes he spins the lettuce for me; sometimes he puts the pre-chopped vegetables in the salad bowl for me; sometimes he helps me grate cheese; but most of the time he grabs a wooden spoon and pretends to use it like a knife.

This means banging it on the counter over and over again.

This is usually around the time that he starts talking louder -- because he needs to be heard over the sound of the banging -- and Alex, who is playing on the floor, decides it's time to be picked up.

Here's a typical image for you: Austin banging away on the counter with a wooden spoon yelling, and me chopping vegetables or cooking something on the stove holding a baby on my left hip.

Cooking like this sure brings multi-tasking to a whole new level. And I finally, truly understand, the arsenic hour expression.

Pumpkin pie anyone?

The strangest thing came out of my mouth the other day. Ryan and I were at the pumpkin patch with the kids when suddenly, I looked at the small pumpkins designated as 'cooking pumpkins' and said "it can't be that hard to make a pumpkin pie, can it?"

At this point, I think Ryan was left at a loss for words.

For those of you who know me, I don't like baking. In fact, my dislike of it was subject of a blog post about two years ago. I enjoy eating baked treats, but actually doing the work is not my thing. Attempts to bake anything that didn't come out of a mix box has almost always resulted in hockey puck brownies or burnt cookies.

Then a funny thing happened this summer. I had some overripe bananas and rather than throw them out like I usually do, I opened a cookbook, found a recipe for chocolate chip banana loaf and made it before I could talk myself out of what I was doing.

And it turned out good. So good in fact, that Ryan later suggested that I should make it again sometime. I wasn't sure which was more surprising -- the fact that I baked, or the fact that Ryan suggested I make it again sometime!

And about a month later, I did. This time with Austin's help. So, in the space of a month, I went from hating baking to undertaking the task of baking with a two-year-old. Surprisingly, we both had fun and I intend to do it again.

Then, a few weeks ago, we had dinner with some friends and I offered to bring dessert. To everyone who knows me -- that means I'll go to the grocery store and pick something up. But instead, the trip to the grocery store was to buy apples to make an apple crisp. I baked for someone other than my family on my own volition and without coercion. And it turned out pretty good, I think.

For the record, it was my mother's recipe and if my mother can make it, then it has to be easy. (Sorry mom, but you're not a baker either.)

I may have only made the same treat twice and a simple dessert, but the key here is I've done it, and I had fun doing so.

And apparently, I want to try making a pumpkin pie. Anyone have a good recipe?

Multi-purpose toys

So that I would have a second one for the basement, a friend of mine loaned me her excersaucer for Alex. It's a simple one, with no toys attached to it. Instead, it just has a tray all around where I can put toys for her to play with. She seems to love it because she can easily spin around in the seat and throw all her toys off.

But it was while she was spinning in the seat, that the warning label on the back caught my eye.

The label reads:

• Never leave child alone. (Ok, that one's pretty obvious although I do tend to do so from time to time. I mean, the excersaucer is the perfect place to plop her down when I need to go to the bathroom.)
• Never use near stairs. (Again, pretty obvious.)
• Never use in or near swimming pools or other bodies of water. (Near swimming pools make sense -- just like never use near stairs -- but IN swimming pools? What would possess someone to put this IN a pool?)
• Never use as a flotation device. (Again, what would possess you to think this can float?)
• Never use as a sled. (Huh?)
• Do not fill saucer with water. (And why would you want to?)
• Do not store outdoors in in sunlight. (Sure, whatever.)
• Keep child away from ranges, radiators, space heaters, fireplaces. (Again, pretty obvious.)

So, here I thought I had this great toy to plop Alex in while I use the computer; use the bathroom; play with Austin or just watch her play. But apparently other parents might have assumed they also had something to keep their child safe in the water with, something to slide on in the snow with and something to even bathe in!

Good to know we've been warned against it.

Getting paid to throw things out

With the renovation of our backyard completed earlier this summer, there was one major thing left to do -- removing the old patio stones.

Since the May long weekend, these two foot by two foot stones have been leaning against the side of my house collecting dirt, becoming a home for bug colonies and generally taking up space. But forgetfulness, laziness and a little bit of miscommunication made the stay all summer long.

You see, I thought Ryan said he was going to dump them. And he thought I was going to put them on Craigslist because I once made a quick comment to that regard. Whichever we were going to do, neither of us did anything, and they sat there.

Until last week when I got tired of them and posted them on Craigslist. I didn't have much hope of selling them -- it is afterall almost October -- but I figured what the heck. The worst that could happen is that no one showed interest and the stones continue to sit there all fall and winter.

In my posting, I did not quote a price. Instead, I told interested buyers to 'make an offer'. The only catch was, whoever wanted them, had to come pick them up.

And, within three hours I had five offers and by the next morning I had 10 more! After quickly mulling through them, I e-mailed back the guy who offered me $60 for all 40 stones. And the morning after that, he pulled up into my driveway and hauled them all away.

In other words, I had these heavy stones removed from the side of my house and I was given $60 for this effort. Whereas, to throw them out, Ryan was going to have to haul them to the dump himself and then pay the City for the right to dump them.

Let me tell you...I'm now looking around my house for any other so-called garbage I can have someone pick up and pay me for.

Losing weight on the 'I have two young kids' diet

My mother once told me that the thinest she ever was in her adult life was in the months following the birth of my sister. My sister is 29 months younger than me, so in those sleep-deprived months of caring for an infant, she was also chasing after the two and a half year old me.

I now understand the secret to her success.

Since Alex was born, I've shed all my pregnancy weight plus six extra pounds (which is nice because I was holding on to some weight from my first pregnacy). And, I can pretty much say that I've done it without trying.

I eat when I'm hungry and I eat whatever we have (although I should note that we don't tend to stock much junk food or desserts in our house). Although eating well has something to do it -- I'm pretty sure I'm burning more calories per day than I consume. In other words, I'm getting enough exercise.

Without working out.

At least three days a week, I push two kids in a stroller. That's about 50 pounds worth of kids. Some days are short walks to the park or to the store, but other days are long adventures -- such as a trip to the zoo. Pushing 50 pounds of kids is a good workout on a flat road and a REALLY good workout when you have to go uphill.

But it's not just when I'm out that I'm getting exercise because when I'm at home, I rarely have time to sit down during the day. Because when I'm playing with Austin we're pushing cars around the basement, dancing to one of his CDs or playing chase around the living room. Sometimes I even end up doing these things while carrying a fussy Alex around.

Regardless of what I'm doing at home during the day, it's certainly not like my first maternity leave where I could sit on the floor with Austin and watch him play with a toy.

So now that I've managed to lose this much weight without trying, I'm going to actually put a little effort into and see if I can lose nine or 10 more pounds. Because I'll admit, in the last few years I've been holding on to a few more pounds than I'd like. I'm not going to join a gym or start dieting -- but I figure if I just pay attention to the little things I've been doing these last few months, the pounds will continue to slowly drop away.

It's a shame this weight loss strategy can't work for the stretch marks my pregnancies left behind.

As (bad) luck would have it

On Monday morning, as I got in my SUV to take the kids to the zoo, I remembered that the gas light had been on all weekend. So my first stop was the nearest gas station where I paid $1.34 a litre -- or a total of $89 to fill my tank.

On Tuesday, the price of gas went down to $1.26.

On Wednesday evening, I took the Civic out to meet my sister for a drink. As I was driving home, the gas light made an appearance so, I decided to fill the car up, rather than leaving Ryan with an empty tank to drive to Mississauga in the morning. I paid $1.26 a litre for a total of almost $50.

This morning, as I drove Austin to the sitter's, I passed a gas station. The price was $1.19.

This afternoon, I heard that gas prices will be another six cents or so lower on Friday. So fill up, goodness knows I don't have to -- I have two full tanks of gas.

You'll do anything for your kids...

Do you know the commercial where a man is hopping like a bunny down a flight of stairs in what looks to be a public park? Then in the next shot a little girl comes into the picture, also hopping like a bunny -- while the voiceover says 'you'd do anything for your kids'.

That's how I feel everytime Austin asks me to put the Chicken Dance song and then insists that I dance with him.

Last month, at Ryan's mom's wedding, my sister-in-laws taught Austin how to do the chicken dance. It was cute, I'll admit it. But the chicken dance is one of those annoying wedding songs that many people -- myself included -- try to avoid. YMCA is ok in my books -- as is Time Warp -- but the Chicken Dance is a must-avoid on the dance floor.

But watching Austin dance to it was harmless fun. Until we got home and he discovered that his Dance, Baby Dance CD had the Chicken Dance song on it. So, the Chicken Dance is now his favourite song to listen to -- replacing Raffi's Baby Beluga and Joshua Giraffe. And that means, at least twice day he asks me to put the song on.

And at least twice a day, I get to pretend I'm two years old again and dance with him around his room.