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Three children meant we had more children then the majority of our friends. Three children and people make comments, ‘You must have your hands full.’ Three children meant a new stage in parenthood. Enter the mini van. I won’t deny it but I LOVE my Mom van. There was no sense of ‘cool’ in me at any time in my life so I didn’t feel a loss of my old life. I loved the space. The ability to spread everyone out so no one could touch each other (less fighting!).

Having daughter was like having an ally. I won’t deny I had fun dressing her, putting bows on her, buying her dolls. Kathleen was snuggly and delightfully girlish. When my boys would horrify me with worms they brought in the house, she would balance life with hugging her dolls.

I read articles on not forcing our kids to be the stereotypical ‘boys’ or ‘girls’ , felt guilt when I realized I only bought pink for her and then I shook my head. She was happy. I was happy. There were many years ahead that she could choose her clothes and tell me what she liked and didn’t like and for now I was revelling in her dainty pink frills.

Peter had started school and Josh and I held our breathes. We worried, he seemed so young  but we were reassured.  We had only mastered potty training weeks before kindergarten had started. He had only shed the beloved binky a few months prior. He loved going, he loved the friends and recess. The mornings were rough, after school was rough. Lots of tears, lots of tantrums. Many days I couldn’t get him to leave the van and we would return home with him.

Finally a diagnosis of autism. There was nothing more heartbreaking then having a doctor tell you that your child is not perfect. Broken. There was something not working in his brain. We were in denial and went to another doctor, a specialist and received the same diagnosis.

As a parent we mourned. We mourned what we though was a lost future. We mourned the scary unknowns we were now facing. Even though we had suspected there was something, hearing the official words was life altering. It was also a breath of relief. We were bad parents, we were not over exaggerating, we had been coping.

Three children meant we had more children then the majority of our friends. Three children and people make comments, ‘You must have your hands full.’ Three children meant a new stage in parenthood. Enter the mini van. I won’t deny it but I LOVE my Mom van. There was no sense of ‘cool’ in me at any time in my life so I didn’t feel a loss of my old life. I loved the space. The ability to spread everyone out so no one could touch each other (less fighting!).

Having daughter was like having an ally. I won’t deny I had fun dressing her, putting bows on her, buying her dolls. Kathleen was snuggly and delightfully girlish. When my boys would horrify me with worms they brought in the house, she would balance life with hugging her dolls.

I read articles on not forcing our kids to be the stereotypical ‘boys’ or ‘girls’ , felt guilt when I realized I only bought pink for her and then I shook my head. She was happy. I was happy. There were many years ahead that she could choose her clothes and tell me what she liked and didn’t like and for now I was revelling in her dainty pink frills.

Peter had started school and Josh and I held our breathes. We worried, he seemed so young  but we were reassured.  We had only mastered potty training weeks before kindergarten had started. He had only shed the beloved binky a few months prior. He loved going, he loved the friends and recess. The mornings were rough, after school was rough. Lots of tears, lots of tantrums. Many days I couldn’t get him to leave the van and we would return home with him.

Finally a diagnosis of autism. There was nothing more heartbreaking then having a doctor tell you that your child is not perfect. Broken. There was something not working in his brain. We were in denial and went to another doctor, a specialist and received the same diagnosis.

As a parent we mourned. We mourned what we though was a lost future. We mourned the scary unknowns we were now facing. Even though we had suspected there was something, hearing the official words was life altering. It was also a breath of relief. We were bad parents, we were not over exaggerating, we had been coping.

A girl! A little girl to adorn in pink and ribbons! No one was more shocked than her own parents! I grew up in a family of all girls and had finally accepted that I would be raising and living in a foreign world of boys and blue but Kathleen arrived and thrilled my girly soul. We had decided NOT to find out her gender and when Josh stuttered, ‘I think it is a girl!’ I felt my heart burst with joy.

Bringing her home, we realized we were out numbered. Taking three to a store required serious strategy. I also realized I was facing some major challenges. I had a newborn, 2 year old and 4 year old…all three had binkies, all three in diapers… there was a feeling that we finally acknowledged out loud that Peter may be a bit behind…’young for his age’… But we kept going.

Owning my own business meant no maternity leave and back to work when Kathleen was three weeks old, on a limited schedule. I relied more and more on my family, who was awesome in helping me out. Looking back those first days started to fly by. We were so busy with our careers, so busy renovating our house, raising these blue eyes babies.

A girl! A little girl to adorn in pink and ribbons! No one was more shocked than her own parents! I grew up in a family of all girls and had finally accepted that I would be raising and living in a foreign world of boys and blue but Kathleen arrived and thrilled my girly soul. We had decided NOT to find out her gender and when Josh stuttered, ‘I think it is a girl!’ I felt my heart burst with joy.

Bringing her home, we realized we were out numbered. Taking three to a store required serious strategy. I also realized I was facing some major challenges. I had a newborn, 2 year old and 4 year old…all three had binkies, all three in diapers… there was a feeling that we finally acknowledged out loud that Peter may be a bit behind…’young for his age’… But we kept going.

Owning my own business meant no maternity leave and back to work when Kathleen was three weeks old, on a limited schedule. I relied more and more on my family, who was awesome in helping me out. Looking back those first days started to fly by. We were so busy with our careers, so busy renovating our house, raising these blue eyes babies.

The fourth year of motherhood brought few changes, Charlie was getting bigger. Almost as big as big brother! I was steadily building my little business. Our house was slowly being renovated.

I had so many different ideas of how I would parent before my children arrived but I was learning that none of this matters, you never will what kind of a parent you will be until your little ones arrive and put you to the test. On the surface we looked like a great little family but at home things were not easy. Peter was not easy. It was little things like his obsessions with the colour green, his obsessive manner he played with certain toys. The tantrums that filled and ruled his days. He was easily panicked. Soon Charlie started passing him in speech and we sought help and he was placed in speech therapy.

Speech therapy opened some new doors for him, they explained the tantrums were from his struggle with language. Those girls who worked with him weekly were miracle workers as we watched him learn to effectively communicate with us, now we knew how he felt! And what he needed!

He still had some quirks and was set on his routines but he smiled easily, laughed and danced. Nothing made my heart swell more then to watch those two little boys play with their trains and cars together.

We soon learned that another little one would be joining our family and once again we were expanding.

The fourth year of motherhood brought few changes, Charlie was getting bigger. Almost as big as big brother! I was steadily building my little business. Our house was slowly being renovated.

I had so many different ideas of how I would parent before my children arrived but I was learning that none of this matters, you never will what kind of a parent you will be until your little ones arrive and put you to the test. On the surface we looked like a great little family but at home things were not easy. Peter was not easy. It was little things like his obsessions with the colour green, his obsessive manner he played with certain toys. The tantrums that filled and ruled his days. He was easily panicked. Soon Charlie started passing him in speech and we sought help and he was placed in speech therapy.

Speech therapy opened some new doors for him, they explained the tantrums were from his struggle with language. Those girls who worked with him weekly were miracle workers as we watched him learn to effectively communicate with us, now we knew how he felt! And what he needed!

He still had some quirks and was set on his routines but he smiled easily, laughed and danced. Nothing made my heart swell more then to watch those two little boys play with their trains and cars together.

We soon learned that another little one would be joining our family and once again we were expanding.

My third year of motherhood brought another home…a fixer upper. Next door to family (aka lots of help).  Two little boys now occupied all of my time. Charles was the typical baby…that easy dream baby that Peter was? Well Charles taught me a lesson. he taught me the meaning of sleep deprivation, he taught me that nursing is HARD. He also taught me that love does expand.

Learning to divide my time between a needy toddler and a baby was not as easy as it sounded before Charles arrived. Learning to get ready to go out with both boys meant getting ready earlier, being more prepared (things that were not my strong suit!).

Raising two boys and renovating was also more expensive then we had anticipated. I missed working, having interest outside my littles and I knew that I needed to do something about our future, we when the opportunity arose I jumped at the chance and went back to work when Charles was only 14 weeks old. The weeks went by in a blue as we prepared for our day at 5am and not returning till nearly 7 pm, weekends were spent cuddling and doing laundry. But once graduation had arrived I was able to take deep breath. I had embarked in a new career of pet grooming.

I would rerun home from work ear lie, but just as physically tired, I was my own boss! We owned our first business!

Owning my own business meant I could make it work for our family, I was able to spend more time with my boys, be there when they needed me to be there. I was still sleepy and doing laundry till midnight but I felt like I could be there for my children.

My third year of motherhood brought another home…a fixer upper. Next door to family (aka lots of help).  Two little boys now occupied all of my time. Charles was the typical baby…that easy dream baby that Peter was? Well Charles taught me a lesson. he taught me the meaning of sleep deprivation, he taught me that nursing is HARD. He also taught me that love does expand.

Learning to divide my time between a needy toddler and a baby was not as easy as it sounded before Charles arrived. Learning to get ready to go out with both boys meant getting ready earlier, being more prepared (things that were not my strong suit!).

Raising two boys and renovating was also more expensive then we had anticipated. I missed working, having interest outside my littles and I knew that I needed to do something about our future, we when the opportunity arose I jumped at the chance and went back to work when Charles was only 14 weeks old. The weeks went by in a blue as we prepared for our day at 5am and not returning till nearly 7 pm, weekends were spent cuddling and doing laundry. But once graduation had arrived I was able to take deep breath. I had embarked in a new career of pet grooming.

I would rerun home from work ear lie, but just as physically tired, I was my own boss! We owned our first business!

Owning my own business meant I could make it work for our family, I was able to spend more time with my boys, be there when they needed me to be there. I was still sleepy and doing laundry till midnight but I felt like I could be there for my children.

The second year of motherhood began with a new home, new community, new dog and I was back to work and Josh had graduated and he had re-entered the workforce too. Balancing the few hours a day between my 2+ hour commute, housework, Peter and work began to show its toll.

Where the first year had felt like a breeze, this year began and I felt torn. Torn between the office job I liked and daily adult conversations, and the busy little toddler.  We wanted more children and I finally decided to embark on being a stay at home mother.

Staying at home with Peter meant routine. I had learned that Peter’s mercurial moods were better when we had a strict routine that involved Sesame Street, strict nap times, and the same snacks each day. Life with my little toddler was proving to test my patience daily, his sunshiny face would disappear in an instant and these dreaded toddler tantrums began! I did miss having the chance to chat with adults daily and dealing with the isolation was a new challenge.

I suddenly had understanding and sympathy for every mother in a grocery store with a screaming child! Trips to stores could often mean the walk of shame from a filled cart and back to the car, while a little boy screamed his little heart out.

Toddlerhood made me realize for the first time in my life how fast time was going, his babyhood was going and replaced with new found independence….I missed the baby desperately and was elated when we found out that our family would be growing again and that dear baby stage would be returning to our home.

The second year of motherhood began with a new home, new community, new dog and I was back to work and Josh had graduated and he had re-entered the workforce too. Balancing the few hours a day between my 2+ hour commute, housework, Peter and work began to show its toll.

Where the first year had felt like a breeze, this year began and I felt torn. Torn between the office job I liked and daily adult conversations, and the busy little toddler.  We wanted more children and I finally decided to embark on being a stay at home mother.

Staying at home with Peter meant routine. I had learned that Peter’s mercurial moods were better when we had a strict routine that involved Sesame Street, strict nap times, and the same snacks each day. Life with my little toddler was proving to test my patience daily, his sunshiny face would disappear in an instant and these dreaded toddler tantrums began! I did miss having the chance to chat with adults daily and dealing with the isolation was a new challenge.

I suddenly had understanding and sympathy for every mother in a grocery store with a screaming child! Trips to stores could often mean the walk of shame from a filled cart and back to the car, while a little boy screamed his little heart out.

Toddlerhood made me realize for the first time in my life how fast time was going, his babyhood was going and replaced with new found independence….I missed the baby desperately and was elated when we found out that our family would be growing again and that dear baby stage would be returning to our home.

Mother’s Day is fast approaching, on the 11th this month and I realize this is my 10th Mother’s Day as a Mother myself. I was 23 years old, when I had my first child, Peter. My husband and I were so excited to be parents. We had been married for three years and his little addition was a little piece of heaven in our world. We were the first of our friends to have a child, it was a little lonely when I realized I was taking this next step in my life without my girlfriends.

We had so many plans, I think I read every book I could get my hands on for pregnancy, labor and raising a child. I knew exactly how many days till my due date, spent hours searching through catalogues looking for the perfect crib, stroller, etc…we decorated the little nursery in our rented house with Winnie the Pooh.

And then the floor fell from under us, Josh was laid off 2 weeks before our son was born, the labor and birth were physically traumatic. But he was perfect. Motherhood was actually easy for me and came naturally. I revelled in being a mother. I remember a dear friend of my Mother’s looking me in the eyes and said, ‘Welcome to the club.’. Even though we were poor as church mice and unsure of our future we stayed positive because how could things go wrong with such a perfect little baby?

My husband went back to school, we packed up our little rental house and humbled ourselves and accepted the offer to live with my parents while Josh re-entered  the student life of papers, studying late into the night, while I raised our son.

That first year with Peter was fun. Everything he did was a small miracle to us, every milestone he hit we were sure he was pure genius. Holidays had a new meaning to us, Halloween was once again fun, Christmas magic was restored…

As new parents we made mistakes, we learned and worshipped our little man. Peter was a text book baby in so many ways, so easy going and happy.

Mother’s Day is fast approaching, on the 11th this month and I realize this is my 10th Mother’s Day as a Mother myself. I was 23 years old, when I had my first child, Peter. My husband and I were so excited to be parents. We had been married for three years and his little addition was a little piece of heaven in our world. We were the first of our friends to have a child, it was a little lonely when I realized I was taking this next step in my life without my girlfriends.

We had so many plans, I think I read every book I could get my hands on for pregnancy, labor and raising a child. I knew exactly how many days till my due date, spent hours searching through catalogues looking for the perfect crib, stroller, etc…we decorated the little nursery in our rented house with Winnie the Pooh.

And then the floor fell from under us, Josh was laid off 2 weeks before our son was born, the labor and birth were physically traumatic. But he was perfect. Motherhood was actually easy for me and came naturally. I revelled in being a mother. I remember a dear friend of my Mother’s looking me in the eyes and said, ‘Welcome to the club.’. Even though we were poor as church mice and unsure of our future we stayed positive because how could things go wrong with such a perfect little baby?

My husband went back to school, we packed up our little rental house and humbled ourselves and accepted the offer to live with my parents while Josh re-entered  the student life of papers, studying late into the night, while I raised our son.

That first year with Peter was fun. Everything he did was a small miracle to us, every milestone he hit we were sure he was pure genius. Holidays had a new meaning to us, Halloween was once again fun, Christmas magic was restored…

As new parents we made mistakes, we learned and worshipped our little man. Peter was a text book baby in so many ways, so easy going and happy.