The perfect weekend

What. A. Weekend.

There are a few times in life when you look back at a day and think, "nothing could have made this day even better than it already was." That was this past weekend. A weekend of smiles, delighted squeals, and the background clicks of the camera. I am really decreasing the space on my hard drive with all of these photos. But... they are capturing these beautiful memories.

Our weekend started off like any other; up at 6:30am (seriously... can anyone tell me how to teach this child sleep in?), breakfast, and a little Saturday morning cartoons. Because, what better way to start a weekend than with watching the Octonauts? 

We were then surprised by a loud banging in our laundry room. Turns out, our laundry machine kicked the bucket. And the good ol' store we bought it at won't come repair it until August 14 so it was a fun afternoon of travelling to my best friend and neighbour, Aleesha's house to do laundry. Thank you again, Aleesha & Todd! We'll repay the favour... one day!

After laundry... stampede. 

John Deere tractors. Petting zoo. Cows. Ice cream. And the weird strangers touching my baby's hair. Weird.

It was a baby girl's dream. And what a dream it was.

 

  

Today was a holiday, so our little family, Bauer included, along with my parents and my brother, Tom, drove down to Lake Newell, about an hour and a half away for a day at the beach. Oh, what a perfect day. THIS is what life is about. Grandma Diana, Ryan's mom, even came out to see us. If one was to look in the dictionary under the word "perfect", a photo memory of today would be there. 

Ok, not a great photo, but look how much they look alike here!

 
 





Aryn even showed off her mad swimming skills. 

 


  

Now I will go rest my cut-up feet (rocks!) and sunburned face, chill out with my hubby, and remember the smiles on everyone's face. Today was perfect.

Parading

We did something we have never done before. I was nervous and anxious to do it, and I was pleasantly surprised when things turned out fantastic. 

Aryn napped in our bed. 

Parents who co-sleep are amazing. Ryan and I are not people who can do it; we like our space, we like to move around when we sleep, and we have a little black dog who takes up 3/4 of the bed. Adding a kicking toddler, and there really would be no sleep being had by anyone. But, one such toddler did not want to nap and instead of fighting it, we cuddled in the "big bed," with Elmo quietly lulling us to sleep in the background. This is the first time I have ever slept with my baby and it was fantastic.

She looks super grumpy here because I woke her up with my camera flash. Whoops!

We napped. We napped for quite awhile. We napped cuddled up to each other, her head touching mine, and I fell into dreamland listening to her soft, sweet breath. 

It was fantastical. 

It didn't last long for me; I had to do one thing I positively despise in life. There is not much I hate. There is plenty that drives me bananas, like poor grammar, bad drivers, and people who wear socks with sandals, but there is not much I hate. 

Well, I hate cleaning.

And I'm bad at it, too. Which is why I don't do it often. So there.

Cleaning done, dishes put away, and computer off. A great Friday afternoon.

 

And don't forget snacks on the floor. Shhh; don't tell daddy!

**

Friday marked the first day of the annual Strathmore Rodeo, and we kicked it off with a good ol' fashioned pancake breakfast at the local grocery store. 

The kids cried, yelled, screamed, laughed, and each one of them smiles wide, even during the brief rain we had, when the clown stopped by with his dog puppet. Because what is nicer than a real dog? A dog puppet.

And then there was the parade. The galloping of horses, delighted squeals of children, and crash of candy hitting the pavement made for a wonderful time. And Aryn looked on in utter amazement.

Candy, toys, hats, water bottles, and freezies made this little girls day even better than anything I could have done for her. She loved every minute of it, except perhaps the firetruck horn honks that not only scared her, but quite a few other kids in the vicinity. But oh, did they have fun.

I hope her dreams tonight are filled with sparkly horses, miniature ponies, brightly coloured puppy dogs, and mechanical dinosaurs. I hope yours are, too. Sweet dreams. 

Grumpy pants

Everyone has one of "those" days. And yesterday was one of "those" days.

I was frustrated, I lost my cool, I actually felt - for the first time - embarrassment of my child. And while I'm sure every child acts this way at one point or another, I stupidly thought for a few moments in life that it wouldn't happen to us. Nope, my child will never act that way. You know, the way that kid acted in the grocery store and you look on in pure judgement and think, "I would never allow my child to act that way."

And then they do... at the pool... and that little devil on your shoulder is right there, reminding you of your judgement of that mother on that day at the grocery store. And you try to flick him off your shoulder, because you don't want to be reminded, but he stays there, whispering, "And now it's your kid."

And you look around the pool and all the other mothers are looking at you, judging you, and secretly thinking, "I'm so glad that is not my child."

Gratefully, one such mother turned to me, empathised, and reassured me that no one is judging; in fact, everyone is most likely remembering a time when their child acted that way.

Is it wrong to think, "I hope so"?

And then, when we got home from swimming lessons, I did it. And I am ashamed to admit that I did it.

I Googled...

Why I Googled this, I don't know. Perhaps I was hoping for some sort of easy remedy, or maybe I was hoping for reassurance that there are other mom's out there who have been, at one point or another, that parent at the pool.

My goal for this blog is to see the positive and beauty in every situation. I had to remind myself of that when she was clinging to my neck, yelling "no no no no no" and refusing to partake in any event in swimming lessons. When Aryn is being a grumpus, I have learned that it is hard to ignore my own frustrations and smile and hug her instead of getting frustrated or angry. It's my own battle, and it is a battle I must continue and better myself. She is a baby, and a baby that cannot (or won't?) speak to voice her frustrations. I am so, so grateful that she is here and my Little. The frustrating days remind me of how hard we tried to conceive her, and just how thankful I am that I have someone to be frustrated with.

*
Play dates are what keep me sane some days. I am grateful to be part of a group of women who nurture, strengthen, and make me a better mom every time we get together. And Aryn plays, smiles, and steals all the toys from every Little there.

Yesterday, after swim lessons, we hung out with my old college roommate, Meredith, and her Irish twins, Lorraine and Edmond. Aryn towers over Lorraine, and Lorraine surpasses Aryn with her gift of speech and sign language. They played, Aryn discovered the fine line of inappropriate amounts of hugging, and Edmond looked on with smiles and wonder.

Fun play dates end with late naps, grumpy Littles, and exhausted mommies. But they are so, so worth it.

It's time to relax on the couch with my husband, and talk about our days. Until tomorrow, when a (hopefully!) happy little girl wakes us up with smiles and hugs. Even if it is 6:30am.

Grandparents delight

Mommy and daddy are awesome, and we all know that. But there is just something about grandparents. Aryn is lucky enough to have 2 sets of grandparents, and even two great-grandmothers. There is so much love pouring into this little person.

My parents stopped by last night before bedtime to say hello. What a lucky little girl.

And, like all toddlers, Aryn was in her glory, soaking up the love and attention. Who wouldn't want 8 smiling eyes watching every move you make? 

And, they danced.

Oh, did they dance.

And they swung.

The look of pure joy on her face when singing her rendition of 'Skina-marink' was enough to melt the hardest of hearts. 

And when all the singing and swinging and dancing was over, it was time to quietly read a good book.

... twice.

This great late-night (ahem, 7:30) excitement was all worth the late bedtime routine; because what are memories if they aren't made?