It’s been nineteen days since my last post. It’s been crazy busy in the last few weeks, with small minor details consuming our days. It’s not very often when we get ‘down time’. There’s always plenty to do. Aside from mommy duties, there are a ton of stay-at-home mom stuff that needs tending to.
The last three weeks, seemed to have been a little easier with going out. Exactly three weeks ago, I got my license to legally drive. It’s been great to to just go when you have to. I’ve taken Apollo on ‘mommy and kuya’ dates, frozen yogurt treats with Arty, and small ventures to the grocery and Starbucks for some ‘me-time’.
Apollo was to spend two weeks at his grandparents in Toronto, but half-way through his mini-vacation away from home, he missed us and wanted to come home. We drove to Toronto, two consecutive weekends in a row. Dropping him off, and then picking him up. He, of course, changed his mind, the minute we arrived. Bribed with the thoughts of camping in the backyard with Papa, and other small adventures with the person he admires most, Papa. We didn’t end up letting him stay, because missing him was just too much. So now, the house is filled with noise, running around, and constant ‘mommy can I play on the Wii-u”, “watch YouTube”, “play NHL on the PS4”, and so on. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The girls and I have been sick this week. In the middle of summer, it’s always fun to be sick…said nobody! Perhaps, we’re all just a little tired and then some.
Does anybody know what happened to summer? It’s already half way done. It seems like it was just last week, when Apollo finished Grade 1, and we’re excited about the summer at home. Now, it’s half way over and we’re thinking about school shopping for Grade 2. On that same note; Apollo is going to Grade 2. Whoa. Where did the time go? I can’t believe he’s going into Grade 2. It’s all too fast.
Two months from now it’s Halloween, and it’ll be Cassi’s first Halloween. Then two months after that, it’s Christmas. I’m not mad though. Christmas is the most exciting time of the year in my household. We absolutely love Christmas. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the one who gets everyone riled up about it. But hey, I can’t wait. It’s definitely exciting to decorate and have the kids celebrate this wonderful time. It puts an emphasis on Family, not that it’s not emphasized enough throughout the year. But it makes it a must! I can’t wait!
I realize this post barely has anything for you to ponder about. But then again, I said I would only share what I had in mind.
Hope you have a wonderful Tuesday…wait, it’s Wednesday!
Since summer has commenced for the oldest of my three, he’s been home with me all morning and all afternoon and then some. These past few days have been more than I can take with trying to get through the day with him. It seems that he’s found ‘bad behaviour’ to be a fun game. His attitude is sky rocketing, his listening skills has weakened even more, and ignoring his parents to be a habit. So you would believe, how difficult it is to get through the day with him alone. Then you sprinkle in the needs of the two girls somewhere between, my scolding Apollo to please listen and care to use his brain, to juggling the tears between the two girls for whatever it is they need/want.
Today, I am exhausted. Today, I can’t mom. Today, I am not as strong-willed. Today, I feel incapable to parent. Today, I feel like my everyday routine is too much. Today, I am at my last string of positive.
J and I did not plan much for this summer, in terms of trips. Why? Because there just isn’t room in the schedule with J’s work. So our trips won’t actually start till Winter. This means, the four of us (the three kids and me) are stuck at home, until J gets home from work. Windsor doesn’t offer much in terms of activities for children. In Toronto, you can get to the zoo, go to Canada’s Wonderland (theme park), head to a variety of park options, shops, malls, etc. So the kids and me are mostly home. In the next few weeks, Apollo is to spend two weeks at his grandparents. It luckily ties in with Apollo’s grandfather’s vacation time. So as expected, Apollo had thought up to spend time there and luckily his grandparents have approved the idea.
Two weeks without Apollo is a break for me to mother two instead of three you’d think. But the separation anxiety has already kicked-in. Apollo is rarely away from home for any type of sleepover adventures. Perhaps we’ve chosen to raise him this way to understand the importance of learning what it means ‘to be home’. There isn’t really many opportunities for us to sleep away from home. One, we’ve got two younger children and thats just a challenge on its own, and second, it’s not a necessity for us to be out and about constantly, requiring to stay at a variety of places. Apollo has taken trips around Ontario while he was very little, staying at hotels and resorts, but not as often enough for him to ‘miss home’.
In terms of activities this summer, I figured day-camp would busy Apollo until school returns (day-camp will have to wait till august), with a side of investing in some type of mental work into a work book for grade 2’s we’ve found at Costco. He will afterall be a grade 2 pupil next September. I’ve always invested in these work books since he began his academic journey. It helps with his intellectual phase, and allows him to stimulate his brain on the daily without letting it get too lazy, especially during summer breaks. It has immensely helped him, and the only negative is his boredom to continue doing them when the school year begins. In turn though, his frustration to finishing last during exercises at school, will be fixed since his mind should recall the same exercises from the books and push him to think faster. It’s all important, as blah-blah-blah as it is to read through this paragraph.
Trying to get him to invest time into these work books during summer is a complete battle I’ve purposely placed myself in. Simply because he’d rather be doing something more finger-worthy like YouTube, wii-u, etc. But I am his mother, and he is my child. It’s my responsibility to keep the teaching going for as long as he can choose to learn. So this constant battle with doing work books, cuts into the focus I have for the two girls. It’s funny how you’re never truly 100% focus with each child, but rather cut into so many tiny pieces trying to tend to everything titled ‘for mom to do’. I’m a terrible mother.
Arty is quite challenging these days, between constant eating, to stimulating activities, I’m super exhausted trying to keep up with her. Then there’s Cassi who rarely and barely needs too much but just to be fed, burped, changed, cradled to nap, and play until she tires out her legs.
Oh but the dishes’ stink call out to me, the food that’s managed to graced the floor instead of the tummies of their masters require sweeping before the middle one finds it to stash away for back-up snacks. The cooking and the feeding and the tidying up and the…There’s too much!
My brain feels pretty fried at this moment. I’m certain today is one of those days I’ve most certainly had before, but I’m losing to because today I really just cannot lion.
The girls are due for a nap. I’ve left Apollo to finish off the few pages I’ve assigned him. It has yet been ten minutes since I laid the girls in bed, and he’s already creaked my door open for nonsense inquiries. Ugh! Is it night time yet? Can I sleep this off yet, and start a new day tomorrow?
P.s. the coffee didn’t work. It must the reason for this gloomy day. Rain is coming.
It has been quite hard on J and me lately. We’ve found ourselves misunderstanding each other, and unable to find the string that connects us. It’s not rare for these moments to occur, especially when you’re parenting three kids, tending to life on the daily, and crossing off responsibilities on the constant. It’s very hard for J and me to have a moment alone. We don’t ever get the chance to go on dates, alone, or have a moment to hear ourselves converse. It gets tricky when you have children (I’m sure you can all relate to this).
Well? What happens when you’ve had just enough of parenting, and you try to find each other through the dirt, the mess, and the chaos of being parents? You sometimes don’t. So I guess, that’s what’s happening with us. We’re getting all our times mixed-up, and our priorities for each other lost.
I miss him. I see him everyday. We don’t ever get to cuddle anymore. The kids are always occupying the space between us. I wanna tell him secrets. The kids will hear. I miss holding him, as I fall asleep. Arty’s taken my spot, and the arm I used to cling to.
He mentioned we should get a babysitter or a nanny, so we could go out. I spent ten minutes after that telling him with anxiety how terrible I feel about it. I couldn’t imagine leaving my kids with a stranger, because I want a moment to myself. That’s the thing. I don’t know what I’m willing to give up. I feel like the juggle can only be done by me. The feeling of leaving the kids with a total stranger, just boggles my mind. I couldn’t. What if something happens to my babies? Why shouldn’t I be the first to be there, if they ever got hurt. What if that stranger is bad? Ugh. What am I willing to give up for a couple of ours of J & M-time?
My heart feels a little heavy lately. I can’t seem to find the string that connects J and me. It bothers me because we’re important too.
For the sake of memories. For the sake of being able to scream, and daily, confess the love for the blessings of being a mom.
For as long as I can remember, I wasn’t a celebrated child. I didn’t have birthday parties, every year, nor had one because I meant a lot to someone. I had a couple that i recall; for the sake of photos that’ll eventually find its way to my adopted father, elsewhere in the world. I wasn’t treasured, the way you treasure someone, with tangible memories like photographs, or letters, or daily blogs of confessions about how much they are loved and cared for.
I wasn’t fussed over. I wasn’t valued. I wasn’t worth enough, for anyone to claim me. I wasn’t enough, for someone to ‘keep’ me. No one cried for me. No one hurt for me. No one would have given their life for me, the way you do when you love someone so much.
Because of this…
I am one of those individuals, who flood your Facebook news feed, instagram, twitter, and tumblr, of photographs, status’, notes, and shared articles about my children; about having children; about being a mom; about the struggle of being a parent; about the chaos of marriage, and everything in between. I AM THAT INDIVIDUAL, because I want to be able to look back at the memories I’ve built with my family. I want my children to be able to find these memories when they’ve grown, and one day they’ll wonder what, who, how, why, they are who they are. It isn’t merely for the sake of bombarding others, or attempting to show I’m better than anyone, or that my family values are better than yours. I do this for me. I do this for the legacy of my family . I do this so that my children will remember to value what is most important in our family, each other. I do this so that they remember what it means to fight for those you love, to always give heart, to always be humble, to find meaning in real life, and so much more.
One day my children will have questions. One day they’ll wonder about all sorts, one day these memories will become reminders, it may bring us together when time is distant, or when our minds have found heart elsewhere. It will rekindle deeper appreciation for one another when that is lost or forgotten, it may be a light that helps redefine relationships in each of our lives, maybe it’ll help recall values, or find comfort, bring smiles, provide happy tears, but one thing for certain, it will always bind us together, always and forever.
I woke up at fourthirty to feed Cassi. She hasn’t been eating consistently. She’s all backed up and crying most of the day. She doesn’t always finish the four oz she usually downs. I hope she’s alright. I hope she poops soon. #thingsthatmomwishesfor
Anyway, it’s now eight past five. The sun is slowly creeping through the living room window. I had gone to the kitchen to get a gatorade, but I opted for water instead. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I feel really conflicted. My heart feels a certain weight of trouble and I just can’t seem to shake it off at this time. J’s alarm has just gone off. This staying up when I could get a few more hours of sleep is probably going to catch up with me come seventhirty when I have to get Apollo up for school. But let’s see where this goes.
I wanted to clarify or expand a little bit on my previous post. It appears many of you guys have split into two in wondering about where I’m coming from. First, I want you to know that the part of me that deals with this aspect of my life has always been quite complicated. For the most part, my relationship with my father was never one to fully grasp or compare to with any other kind of father-daughter relationship. While it seems that any adult and child relationship could withstand the obstacles of being in a family and having to go through the motion of that, it was never the case for the two of us. Forget what you think and know about parent-child relationship. What you know about raising a child. What you think father’s and daughters are.
I like to think of my relationship with my father as some kind of story in a book. One where you piece two people together from halfway through the story and kinda see whether or not it’ll become something.
My father and I had one thing in common, which was dancing. We both loved to perform and we both appreciated the beauty of dance. That’s as good as it gets. Literally. There is absolutely nothing else we have in common. Well when you adopt a child privately at eight months old..an adoption that wasn’t planned, it would leave a certain question in the future about whether or not this would work out.
See, I’m not against adoption at all. I think that it’s one of the best ways to give love and sometimes find love. It is in those unfortunate circumstances that people find real love, sometimes. J and I want to adopt. We want six kids, four to be biologically ours and two to mix into our family and share our love with. But..when an the adoption wasn’t something you thought through and really wanted, eventually there comes consequences from that.
My dad had moved to Canada, after his father passed away. I was three. He tried to leave me with his aunt, but that didn’t work because apparently I cried and cried and wouldn’t stop. So she then sent me to my dad’s sister-in-law, where I would eventually spend the next six years considering as my family (this chapter is a whole other story on its own).
Fast forward to when I was nine. It’s October of ’97 and snow coated the land so well. I’ve landed and my bone marrow could feel the cold as the plane sits to allow people off. A fellow flyer had walked me to baggage claims because the stewardess that was supposed to have been watching me from the Philippines to Canada-maybe got left behind. The whole trip, this lady from the plane took care of me. Anyway, I could see my aunt through the glass windows; who I’d met a year back when she took a trip back home with her giant son (he’s half white). I had finally figured out how to get to them and there he was..my father. He hugged me and covered me with a coat. He wouldn’t stop hugging me, and I wasn’t used to him so I said, “stop hugging me. I don’t even know you.” You probably think I’m a brat, but if you haven’t figured it out by now I’m that person with the foul mouth who says anything and everything as if I’m not aware of what social filter is. He went on to say, “I’m your dad. I’m the one in the pictures.” Well, that statement never did sit well with me.
Moving forward, the first few months were probably the most awkward in our relationship. Here’s an image of my father. Don’t worry you won’t need to close your eyes to imagine.
He’s about 5’8 / 5’9 probably the tallest in his siblings. He’s got a steep nose, with dark hair..wait there’s a photo up there already. He’s literally a spitting image of Antonio Banderas, mixed with a dash of Marc Anthony. The thing is he looks very Spanish. His features are from his uncle. His family is part Spanish, on his dad’s side. Moving on..
We never really had those first six years you’re supposed to have when you have a child. Those years are the most critical in a child’s development. So when you have nothing that you started with or built a foundation from, you’re starting at something half-way completed. It was only a matter of a few years before my next milestone. He had missed the character I’ve become, the mannerisms I had, the person that I was becoming, the toys that I liked, the TV shows that I liked, the kind of friends I liked, the type of clothes I liked, the kid I had become.
He had slowly began to understand my personality. A good kid with a bad temper. Countless troubles at school began, not academically but socially. Being in his mid forties already, he had no clue how to help me socially adjust. This caused chaos in my mind that then transfered into our relationship. I began to grow as a person, and eventually made friends. Having friends who were boys were an issue. Wanting to hang out with friends was an issue. So because we couldn’t find common ground and he refused to find it in him to understand what I was going through; normal stages at that it really became a struggle for the two of us.
My father worked as an accountant, and this means I’d spend the time he was away at work with my aunt who lived near us. In the summer time, during off days from school, I’d bounce around between his family members and his friends. Never finding consistency and balance.
Finally at the end of grade school, I had started a fling with a boy that would eventually become my first puppy love. That lasted till I was sixteen. Those three years would prove to be more trouble between my dad and me. It lead to me going into foster care.
I spent a year in foster care, with an Italian family. It was one of the toughest and confusing time in my life. I wondered why my dad had bothered uprooting me from where I was from to half raising me here. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t get me. Why our relationship was so complicated. After turning sixteen, I was able to make decisions for myself and what would happen with my status in foster care. A child of the government. I chose to live on my own from then on. And I fend for myself, figuring out life on my own, in my own terms. I would eventually be in and out of his house, because a part of me still cared for him. But it wouldn’t last. And we lost contact.
At eighteen my first serious relationship began. J and I hung out, and didn’t become an item until a year after. Eventually at twenty, J and I became parents. Two people trying to figure out adult life was complicated. Relationship in its own was complicated, but we got through it. A few months before I was due to have Apollo, I e-mailed my dad and figured this thing between us will have to quit. He was becoming a grandpa for the first time ever. I was becoming a mom and it was time to mend the pieces in the aspect of family. I wanted him to be there. I wanted him to know my son. I wanted him to be a part of his life. And with that, things were like nothing happened. My dad would eventually become a part of my life again; a part of Apollo’s life.
March 4, 2009 – Apollo’s birth
My father would be a part of my life for the next several years, helping me while I worked and eventually deciding to take on post-secondary academics. We would still bicker about the petty things of life, from his disapproval of my tendencies of caring for my home, to my way of parenting. This would lose us a few weeks here and there, but my apologies for things even when I wasn’t at fault, would mend these breaks.
A few Christmases ago, he had began his trips to The Philippines where he would spend six months a time. It was the first time he had ever gone for that long. He’s made trips there before but a month at most. Our relationship would become second to his new life after that. He had find no relevance to be around, as I had began my own life, had a child, had a family of my own and would eventually feel as if he was no longer a part of, even with my reassurance that I still needed him. It appears that the chaos of life is all the time when I needed him, but it wasn’t like that. I wanted him to be a part of my life, I wanted us to be better. I wanted us to figure out what this thing was between us that we couldn’t sort through. But his way was way beyond what I was willing to compromise, and I couldn’t find it in me to make mends.
The last month he was in The Philippines, I had informed him that I was due to have a second baby. That J and I were ecstatic to be having another. From his end, this wasn’t a good thing. He had left me with, “Why would you have another one? It’s not cheap to have more kids. You aren’t financially stable, you are just ruining the lives of your kids.” I thought differently. While we did struggle financially, we acquired help from J’s family when were really needed it. And perhaps, they did better in the true definition of what it means to be there for your kids. My dad was no where. But we made it the best we can. It wasn’t easy, it never is, but it was all worth it for the sake of our son. Two years would pass, and we’ve lost everything between my father and I.
Last Christmas was the first time I seen him in over three years. Apollo would still know him as his grandfather, like things never changed, but it would be different for Artemis.
It would also be the last time I’d seen him, except for the brief five minutes he gave me and refused to see me during Easter. I would spend countless times calling him, and he wouldn’t pick-up or return my call. The last I spoken to him was a few weeks back, over facebook video chat. I had shown him our new house, and intended to talk longer to update him on my life and the kids. But this call wouldn’t last longer than ten minutes before he had shoo me away for another incoming call.
At this point, I’m uncertain, as I always have been. That relationship you’re to have with your parents is said to get better as you get older. Well, we’ve been stuck in this ever since I can remember. It hasn’t changed, it wont change and it’ll have to do.
So please be a little more understanding when I say, I do not relate with most child-parent relationships. I do not relate with most emotional attachments between child and parent. It isn’t a thing for me to know or begin to understand how these types of co-existing works. While it sucks that this is the way that part of my life has waved about, I do not regret the efforst I’ve made or in whichever way he figured I haven’t.
There will come a time, when I’ll have to figure all this stuff out. Until then, when I have found it somewhere deep down to understand why this is all acceptable in defence to our differences, then that’ll be the day I find closure. Until then, like most things in my past which I’ve no control of in trying even a tiny bit to fix, it’ll have to sit somewhere between I halfly cared to none.
The good of all this? I’ve my own family now, and my family is the best thing that has ever happened to me. It’s what I have always wanted, it’s what I have always needed.
It’s that time again.. I’ve spent a couple of hours trying to get this out. It was that hard for me to dig in there and find it in me to share. So please be kind.
First, I wanna give a shout out to my husband who worked really hard in the last three years. He started again. Became a student, while tending to the needs of our family and home. He never ceases to disappoint. Always giving his best in everything he does. Even at times when he faltered, and had his head above the waves, he never gave up. He achieved honours in Electro-mechanical Engineering Technologist, at Humber College, and being the oldest in his program. He managed to create friendships, and enjoy his time as a student again. In the last three years, it was hard. It required him to piece himself in more ways than one, to accommodate and achieve every want, need, and requirements from his home life. He never complained, and was always apologetic for not being able to do better than exceptional for his family. I saw him at his lowest, with topped-up schedules, but never did he say I can’t do this. I am so honoured, and proud of the person he is. He continues to make me proud with every bit of him.
Moving Forward
We have ventured into new adventures in the beginning of this month. We have taken on quite a handful of changes, with relocation, job opportunities, and family. While sometimes, changes are scary, it makes me feel assured with J, by my side.
Windsor, is still something to get used to. It’s very different from where we come from. But at the end of the month, the goal is to finally get my G2, to be able to drive without having to depend on J. It goes a way with having three kids. Doctor appointments, grocery shopping, drop-off and pick-up from school, and personal errands. That’s exciting!
Writing, though I haven’t been as consistent as I would like to be with frequent blogs, nor starting on my paper and pencil tip to begin my journey of writing my book, I am certain that in the next few months, this will change. I mean, when have I given you guys a date, and not have proved to give you something new to take on with me? In the near future, the goal is to invest full-time to writing, whatever kind of writing. So stick with me, it gets better from here.
Family, I’ve got to get planning for Cassiopeia’s baptism. I have yet to round up ideas on having this done. Soon!
*Apollo has began making friends at school and with that said, the “hanging out” part has arrived. Is it just me or do you also have this concern?
He had asked to go hang out at R’s house, one afternoon, after school. I didn’t feel comfortable with allowing him, since I had never met his parents nor have any kind of stable, consistent relationship to know them well enough. So I said no. I had offered for R to come over instead, but R’s dad, had a dental appointment he felt R, had to be there for. Well, I think he felt the same way as I did. Having just moved to Windsor, we have yet to make friends or have any sign of making close bonds with anyone. This makes it a little difficult to entertain Apollo with activities and pass times that he likes. I feared that because I didn’t know R’s parents, I didn’t know their ways, I didn’t know their beliefs, I didn’t know who they were. Was I acting too attached to Apollo? He’s seven. Is it okay to allow him to take on these experiences, and make that call? I couldn’t. I wouldn’t mind his friends over, but I’m still uncomfortable with the idea of letting him be, alone, with another family, that I don’t really know.
Long weekend, during the week
We arrived in Toronto on Tuesday night, to attend J’s convocation Wednesday afternoon. We’re settling at my in-laws to spend time with them and to enjoy the extra time J was allotted with work. Tuesday-Sunday we’re here! So if you’re in Toronto, and you wanna hang, give me a shout! My mother-in-law has planned a party for us, birthdays and graduation. How nice! There’ll be cake, and candles, and food, and family. What a great way to spend our little mini-vacation.
See you on the other side!
Studies show that children best flourish when one mom and one dad are there to raise them.
Sometimes I feel bad for wanting more than just being a mommy. Those times when I worked full-time while aK was growing up, I missed some days with him. While I took care of other people’s children and taught them things, I sacrificed my time with my child who I could have been giving all my knowledge and time to. But I would never feel satisfied just being a homemaker. It’s not a bad thing to be one. I, now, know how it feels to be a stay-home mom. Not because I have to be, but because I want to be. I want to be there for the things I lost out on with Apollo. The girls are still very young. Practically just born. It isn’t fair for them to share their milestones with random sitters, and not me, who wants to be able to remember those moments.
I’m laying in bed, holding Cassi, after she had fallen asleep from her feed. She’s a little over a month. She’s grown so fast, developed her own facial features, and she’s the sweetest little angry muncher there is. As I lay there, trying to get my website going (stay tuned), I had this quote in my head, “It’s not what you’ve lost but what you have gained with being a mom, that’s important”.
I realize that it’s so frustrating as a parent, evermore so, as a mom that your life no longer belongs to you. You have become slave-like to everyone else’s needs but your own. You no longer tend to your needs first, and maybe never. I hate that I can’t shower when I want; eat when I want; watch television, or the show I like when I want; get out of the door, or go anywhere on time when I want; get my zero to a hundred done; write when I want; have all of my coffee when I want; eat ALL of my food when I want; wear nice clothes when I want; go out with my husband, alone, when I want; sleep in my bed, alone, when I want. There’s always someone else calling out to me, there’s always someone squeezing into my ribs, as if they have yet to be born, and they find such comfort in giving me discomfort.
…but these frustrations, they keep me going. This frustration, motivates me in my life. It pushes me to be who I am, without second guessing myself, it gives me confidence, it makes me powerful, it gives me superpowers, it keeps my life interesting.
A lot of the times, mothering is tough. It’s never a dull moment. It’s always crazy. It’s always on the go. But, how would you rather have it? How would my life have kept going, if I didn’t have my son, when I did? How will our lives be, especially Apollo, if Artemis didn’t come? How would their lives be as adults, if there wasn’t one more to add to crazy, if Cassi wasn’t made? These blessings, they have reasons, they a purpose, they are my purpose in life.
..and when you think it doesn’t get much crazier, then there’s also my husband. He’s a well of humour. That’s just putting it nicely.
I’ve got an amazing life. Hardships in life, it’s all part of it. That’s normal. It’s normal to be challenged in life. Otherwise, how would you make it better, at every point? But the win; the prize; the epic story, it’s having a family that’s all yours to keep.
xoxo, til next time.
p.s. more updates on the move soon. ALSO, it’s not Lakeshore anymore, it’s just Windsor.
I have yet to do review posts on anything, since it requires a lot of research and time to put together information. That’s time I don’t really have, but I will share my experience on using a variety of different types of baby bottles, since I’ve got seven years under my belt of pass and fail with baby bottles. (*insert wink emoticon here*)
Here are five types of bottles that I have used:
1. Playtex VentAire Advanced Bottle
My son used these when he was born back in 2009. At the time, it seemed like every mom had colicy, gasy babies. So every mom was using these bottles. Apollo was a gasy baby. It seemed like he was always eating after the first few months, so we had to make sure we invested in bottles that was going to help with the bubbles, and reduce gasyness.
Cost:Walmart $16.99 / Babies R Us – Gift Set $23.17
Cleaning & Convenience: When you have a baby that constantly feeds, you cannot wash bottles enough. This bottle had 6 parts. So if you’re not sleeping through the night, and you’re exhausted, that 3 a.m. washing bottle time is not exactly fun. It’s like zombies trying to get through a door without opening the door. My husband stood by the sink, half awake several times, ready to just scream BREASTFEED instead. After washing 6 bottles x 6 parts which is 36 parts in the sink and then waiting for it to sanitize, you’re better off buying ready milk in those disposable plastic bottles. Especially, if you’re feeding your baby warm milk. That means, heating the milk in the microwave, after washing all those parts, and sanitizing them. WHO IN THE WORLD HAS 2 hours, when you’ve got a screaming, crying baby?
Gasy and Colicky Fix: It did help with the colic aspect and my son was no longer gasy. So it did its job.
2. Evenflo Classic Glass Bottle + Vented Bottles
Apollo had to use these after the Playtex VentAire bottles, because we got sick of having to wash all the parts. I mean, like my husband says, just like Coke, it taste better in a glass bottle. I don’t know how formula taste in a glass bottle and a plastic one, at that, but I would assume, like most drinks, it taste a lot nicer from a glass.
Cost:Babies R Us $11.99 (3 pk, 8 oz size)
Cleaning & Convenience: Cleaning these bottles were fairly easy. It was four parts, and no crazy crevices to tediously wash. The only negative I found was, when sanitizing them, it was a pain. You sanitize it with boiled water, that means you had to wait to cool them before touching it, unless you had super gloves. Then, you had the actual milk warming process, it wasn’t recommended to heat up the bottle, so warming the milk separately was the thing, and then having to cool down the milk was another. It was too long of a wait. Being out, it was hard to serve the baby warm milk. This meant, you had to have a thermos of warm water at the right temperature before leaving the house. So that led us back to the Playtex VentAire.
3. Gerbers First Essentials Clear Bottles
When Artemis, our second child was born. We wanted some easy to clean bottles, where we can use and go right out of the hospital. We had figured we’d use a different type of bottle after a month or so, since these Gerber First Essential bottles were tiny, plastic and small nipples, it was easy and go kinda bottles.
Cost:Walmart $5.96 (3 pk)
Cleaning & Convenience: Cleaning it was easy, it’s got your typical four parts, the only negative aspect was, you can’t really sanitize it well since it’s cheap and plastic material. The nipples wore out so quickly. It leaked at the bottom of the nipple if you close it too tight. I’ve had Arty look like she just downed 3oz of milk in 2 mins, little did I know, the bib soaked it all up. While the cleaning was easy, and not really too complicated, the convenience turned into a nuisance.
4. Playtex Nurser with Drop-Ins Liners
We switched to these for Arty, after we got fed up of the wasted milk.
Cost: Walmart & Babies R Us $19.99
Cleaning & Convenience: Cleaning these bad boys are pretty easy, because it uses liners, you really are just cleaning the cap, nipple and twist cap thoroughly, and quickly washing with soap the body part. I actually bought a microwave-sanitizer for this, so it’s quick. The only extra aspect is buying the inserts every month. The convenience is great! You don’t have to constantly clean the bottles itself. But you do have to change the inserts often, to make sure the milk isn’t gross from several usage and old residue.
Cost:Walmart $9.97 (4 oz.) $11.97 (8 oz)
5. Philips Avent Classic Bottles
With Cassi, I have decided to switch a totally new brand. With Arty just a year old, I didn’t want to have to mix up their bottles and the nipples. It would make it difficult to keep everything sanitary, with the same kind of bottles. So, the other day I picked up these bad boy. The box set I bought is currently on sale at Babies R us. It came with three of these 4 oz size bottles, and two 8 oz bottles. It also came with a pacifier, a brush, and a milk dispenser for when you’re on the road.
Cost:Babies R us $55
Cleaning & Convenience: Cleaning this bottle is pretty straight forward, it’s like cleaning the Gerber First Essential bottles. Good thing I got the sanitizer with it. Two minutes in the microwave, and bam ready bottles again. Convinient? Yeah, so far it’s good. No complains. Aside from Cassi trying to get used to the nipples.
Today couldn’t go as planned.
I slept at 1:30 a.m., since Cassi has resorted to the pacifier to sleep.
This is what happens, when the hubby puts the baby to sleep at night. He didn’t know what I meant when I said, Cassi keeps me up at night. I had J, put Cassi to sleep the night before our super long trip to Windsor, ON to see some potential houses (don’t worry that’s part of the news, I’ll get to in the next few write-ups). I thought I’d get all the stuff we needed for the trip ready for the night before since doing it that morning, would never allow us to leave by seven in the morning. Well, J was so ‘exhausted’, and Cassi wouldn’t let him sleep that he thought shoving a soother in her mouth would help. It did! She was asleep in no time. 😑 The first two kids (aK, 7 & Arty, 1) never had to rely on soothers, to sleep. I was determined this time around I’d do the same. But that was broken when I asked J, to help me.
Although, Cassi now falls asleep a lot faster with a soother in her mouth..the struggle to keep it in her mouth is another story, another paragraph. 😧
BTW, I’m blogging from my phone because I just didn’t have the brains to bring a laptop with me to Starbucks when I have two babies. It’s funny, usually they bring laptops to Starbucks-not babies. 😒
There are two types of mom (you know this). There’s the laid back, go with the flow, fun mom who kicks back and takes everything as it comes. No worry. Then there’s mom’s like me, who thinks of everything to the T. Mom’s who obsesses about keeping a list/schedule for every thing that’s happening.
I had prepared the girls bag, aK’s lunch box and my purse last night. Even numbers of diapers for the girls, a pack of wipes, a pair of outfit, milk dispensers, fresh bottles, I got it. Unhealthy Monday lunch, for aK (lunchables, chocolate pudding, cheese and crackers, juice box and a brownie bear paw). Where was my head this morning. Everything in that lunch box is something his dad would pack. 😨 Oh right, having a newborn… you’re absolutely done. You can’t get shit right at this point. There’s no being well prepared like you were during the first born or even the second born’s baby days. I thought I still got it right when Arty was a newborn. Getting ready with two kids, was so easy. Everything was remembered. This time around, my 45 min well ahead of time, ‘prep time’ was a joke. 😐 aK was late for school, like he’s never been late before.
The lady who’s got this swag walk (She’s got a limp) was already heading back through the short-cut, when usually, on my way back she’s just getting to the school. The care-taker even got to the back gate before me, ready to lock me in and make me go all the way around to our street, instead of having access to the short-cut. That’s how late we were. Thankfully, when we got to the school-they have yet to lock the side door where aK enters and exits from. Otherwise, I’d have to go around to the front and have in go inside alone because how does one carry a one year old and a newborn at the same time, when you’re a stumpy, post-preggo, 5’2 gal with no upper strength? Oh you don’t!
I’m sitting at Starbucks, with a half eaten, picked-at croissant, a coffee cake, and a ½ dranked ice coffee, that’d usually finished off by now coz I’ve been sitting here for half an a hour now. I have no energy to eat or even drink. I don’t even know how I’m sitting up right, because I woke up at 3:45 a.m. to feed Cassi and she didn’t go back to sleep after the eating, burping, spitting up, and pacifier ordeal until almost 5 a.m..and then, the alarm went off for J, this morning at 6:10 a.m. and then again at 7:30 a.m. for aK. .
The life of a mom is serious.
Just waiting on J, then we’ve got a doctor’s appointment for Cassi. The day just began, and im already done.
I,Mommy 