Sharing a bed with a five year old

Last night at 3am, while the entire world was fast asleep, I lay in bed half awake. This is nothing new. I have not been sleeping well for months now so being awake at 3am was not as disturbing as it has been. I have starting embracing it. It is usually around 3am when I stop trying to make myself go to sleep so I can be sure I am able to wake up when it is time to wake up. Anyway back to my story, it was 3am and everyone else in the house was asleep. Mats was asleep beside me and for the most part, everything was status quo.

Then Mats changed things up on me.

He kicked off all the covers and stood up on the bed. He looked around and then took a few steps towards me. Then he turned around so he back was facing me and sat down with a plop right on my stomach. All while he was still asleep.

And the very first thing that popped into my head when he did flung his butt onto my stomach was: “AW MAN!!!! This kid thinks he has walked to the bathroom and he is about to pee on me”. This is going to get messy real quick! I wasn’t concerned about the fact that Mats was asleep in a sitting position on my stomach. My concern was what was about to come out of his butt at that very moment.

So I sat up super-fast and pushed Mats off my stomach. I tried to wake him up so he could go back into his spot on the bed but he wasn’t having any of it. He sprawled out across the entire bed and decided he was going to sleep there. I wasn’t having him take over the bed like that, I might not be sleeping but I wasn’t going to give up my warm blankets without a showdown. So I hoisted him back up into his spot, covered him up and lay back down. Then he promptly woke up and asked for chocolate milk.

I told him it was 3am and he was to go back to bed because there was no chocolate milk readily available at this time, so he lay down and fell asleep. And I lay down and went back to thinking about if I should add caramel candies to my coffee in the morning.

For the record, I did not add the caramel candies to my coffee even though I do think that would be a delicious idea.

Mats wants to have a baby

Lately Mats has been expressing his need to procreate. This was something he sort of sprung on me out of the blue a couple of weeks ago. We were having our nightly conversation about the state of the world and he told me he is going to have a baby when he is ready. Now given that Mats is FIVE, I didn’t really expect to be having a baby conversation with him this early on but if this is what he wants to talk about, then this is what we are going to talk about. After the first conversation, he has mentioned the baby on and off in passing every now and then, but I pretty much know he has pretty much figured out what he wants to do.

So here is the gist of the conversation.

Mats has decided that when he gets old enough, he wants to have a baby.

He is not too keen on the getting married part and has decided he will go ahead with having the baby but not getting married. He knows people can have babies and not be married and he is cool with that. I did, however, stress to him the importance in making sure whomever he decides to procreate with knows his intention upfront about not getting married. I explained to him that some girls would prefer to be married when they have babies and they could get very angry and upset if they have a baby with someone who did not want to get married. Now at this time, he does not have a specific girl in mind to have the baby with but he is confident this is something he can figure out as the time gets closer.

I also explained to him that he would have to work really hard as a dad. I told him being a dad is more than just playing with a baby and he will have to work harder than he has ever imagined working to take care of his child (and yes, at this time he only wants one baby). He told he knew how hard it was to be a dad; you have to work all day and be really tired when you get home, you never get to watch your own t.v. shows or play your own video games, and you have to buy things all the time for your baby but he is OK with that. He just wants to have someone he can love because he says having someone to love is important.

Now, so far through the conversation, Mats had an answer for every question I posed to him. He had really thought about this and it was obvious. But his last statement threw me for a loop and I wasn’t sure how to explain it to him; he wanted to have the baby. As in he wanted to be the one to carry and birth the baby. This is why he didn’t think the marriage bit was important, he wanted to be the one to do it all. And when I explained to him that boys could not actually carry babies, he got very upset. He thought it was really unfair only girls could have the babies in their tummies. He didn’t understand why a boy who wanted to have a baby could not just get one put in their stomachs like girls did. This put a whole new spin on our conversation and I was stumped as to how to explain why only girls could carry children. Thankfully, he was really tired by this point and I told him we would finish talking about this part later.

So far he has taken me up on that, and I am glad. Cause I still don’t have an answer for him.

Jack Sprat and his brother

Maks is a big kid.

Like a big kid.

He is eight years old and weights 100lbs. He is over five feet tall. He is taller and heavier than just about every other kid in his class. He is bigger and heavier than most of the kids in the grades above him as well. He is routinely getting asked if he is older than ten. Most people just do not believe he is eight by looking at him.

But he is eight.

Mats is a little kid.

Like a little kid.

He is five years old and weighs less than 40lbs. He is just over three feet tall. He is smaller and lighter than just about every other kid in his class. He is lighter and smaller than most of the kids in the grade below him as well. He is routinely getting asked if he is younger than five. Most people just do not believe he is five by looking at him.

But he is five.

Having a really big kid and a really little kid makes things complicated when it comes to food, eating and dinner time. Maks will eat everything that is placed in front of him and then he will go on and eat something else after he has had his meal. He will generally have a pre-dinner snack, followed by dinner followed by an after dinner snack. His eating isn’t just about junk food either, he has no problem finishing off containers full of fruit, smoothies, cereal, or crackers and cheese. He eats continuously throughout the day and he is starting to show just how big he is.

Mats, on the other hand barely eats; he will nibble occasionally but unless he is forced he routinely never finishes his very small meals. Mats refuses to eat anything that is wet, has a sauce, cannot be held or is hot. He needs to eat handheld foods that leave his hands dry and cool. Pasta, soup or rice is not something he eats. In fact, suggesting pasta, soup or rice leads to meltdowns and tears and the occasional throwing up. He also cannot eat large portions of anything. If his dinner is larger than a hotdog, he won’t be able to eat it all. It is as though his stomach just will not allow that much food.

I am the proud parent of Jack Sprat and his little brother. If you don’t know the nursery rhyme; Jack Sprat could eat no fat. His wife could eat no lean. In between the two of them, they ate the platter clean.

In this case Jack Sprat is Mat and since he does not have a wife, Maks is the partner in crime. Between the two of them, I spend almost $1000 a month on groceries but neither of them has the same dinner. Most nights Maks will get a large plate of food with protein, carbs and a bit of veggies. But Mats will get a considerably smaller plate with a few pieces of protein (if I am lucky), a bit of carbs and loads of vegetables and salad.

It seems so odd to me that either will eat what the other one likes. The both refuse to eat like the other. The doctor assures me that they are both healthy and not to worry about how or what they are eating. He says when it comes to food, as long as they are eating, they are OK but I still wonder if they are getting enough.

For now though, I have the living version of a nursery rhyme at my dinner table.


Last Friday I had my first naturopath appoint. Now I was told to go see a naturopath by one of Beanz’ friends last April when I started complaining about my thyroid issues but I never really took her seriously. She believes in crystals, auras and reads tarot cards, so I figured since we have very different lifestyles that having the same kind of doctor would not work.

Now this was said before I was put through a battery of tests, started throwing up twice a day and starting losing fistful upon fistful of hair. So because I am somewhat stubborn; it took all those bad things happening and the universe turning against me to change my mind.

Normally a naturopath appointment is around $150 each time you see them because they are normally not covered by the government healthcare. They are considered along the lines of a chiropractor, needed sometimes but not needed enough to be completely funded by the government. But after asking around, I found out my humble little (gigantic) town has a naturopath clinic available for free in the hospital. You just need to be able to go in and see them in the evenings.

Score! More free healthcare!

So I went to see my doctor on Tuesday and I got all the latest test results from him so the naturopath would have some idea as to what he was facing with me. On Friday he spent an hour going through my long and complicated medical stuff and came back to me with a PLAN.

Dude! An actual plan!

This isn’t to just treat the symptoms. It’s not just pills. It is an actual honest to goodness plan to make me better. I need to keep a food journal for him so he can see how often I eat, what I eat and when I eat. Based on this, he is going to put together a diet and exercise plan for me. It will be tailored to my habits and the foods I normally eat. He is also starting acupuncture on me this week. His goal is to get the ovarian cysts and fibroids to shrink and hopefully become less painful.

Now acupuncture is a big question mark for me. I have never had acupuncture done and I have no idea what to expect. I mean, are they going to stick needles into my stomach and this is not supposed to hurt?! But given how much stuff I have been through already, some needles to the stomach may not always be a bad thing.


Random Things – The Lottery Edition

Have you ever read the shopaholic book, where she buys a lottery ticket and she believes she has the winning ticket? So she plans how she is going to spend all of her money and even plans how she would announce the fact she is a millionaire to her parents? And then as she is sitting there watching the lottery numbers being read out, she realizes she doesn’t have the winning ticket and starts yelling at the TV because she thinks they lottery people are reading the numbers wrong? I can relate to that. And because of my weird connection to the lottery, I don’t do lottery like most people. I have a method to my madness. I have not won anything yet so I am not sure if my madness actually works but I still do it and one of these days I will tell my parents I’ve won the lottery just like I have it planned out in my head.

  1. I only buy a ticket if the lotto jackpot is over $50 million. I don’t really see the point of buying a ticket if it is less than that. It’s not that I need more $50+ million dollars to survive; I just seem to think it is not necessary to spend the money on a ticket unless I am not going to win super big.
  2. When I do buy a ticket, I put the ticket in my mom’s money tree. I don’t think the money tree is particularly lucky; but it is called a money tree so that has to mean it will add more money to the ticket. Or it could mean it will take out the money from the ticket. I am not sure which it is yet.
  3. I don’t check my ticket until weeks after the draw has been done, especially if the winning ticket was purchased anywhere near where I live. The pressure surrounding having a winning ticket gets to me, even if the pressure is all in my head.

And in case you are wondering, as of this moment, I have yet to actually win anything more than $20 in the lottery.

Midnight conversations

Halloween messes me up. I am nervous most of the time, but Halloween makes things worse. And with Millhouse deciding that this is a fantastic time to start watching a Friday the 13th marathon, I am just a big chicken right now.

Last night at 11pm:

Me: “Millhouse, did you hear that?”

Millhouse: “hmmmmmmmm………………………”

Me: “Millhouse, wake up! Did you hear theat? Is one of the kids in the room? Is Mat in the room, sniffling?”

Millhouse: “No, it is just us.”

Me: “No one else is in the room?! Then what is that noise?!”

Millhouse: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me: “Millhouse, wake up! See this why I f*cking hate Halloween. There is probably some freaking gremlin in the room and I am going to die in my sleep! F*cking Halloween!!”

Millhouse: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I blow too fast and too hard

*That is what she said*

Yesterday I went for some sort of uranium test. Now the whole premise of the test was I had to blow into a green tube, then drink some funky liquid, wait 30 minutes and then blow into a yellow tube. Apparently the test will tell them if the medicine has worked or not. I have no idea if I drank the uranium, blew into the uranium or had any sort of contact with the uranium. But I am told that it was there.

All that being said, when I went for the test, I wasn’t sure what to expect so I rolled with everything that the nurse was telling me to do. And for the most part, she really had nothing to say. The only time she actually made a comment was when I was blowing into the tubes.

Apparently, I blow really hard and really fast. Most people don’t usually blow like I blow.

Take from that what you will.


Maks is going through some stuff. For those of you that have never had the honour of meeting Maks, he is of mixed race.  (So is Mat for that matter)

Millhouse is a pasty Eastern European / East Coast Canadian. He says the word sun and he gets sunburnt. This is not an over exaggeration on my part. This is a statement of fact. When we went to Cuba, I thought I had covered all his exposed areas in sunscreen but I didn’t. I missed his ankles and his ankles burned. Literally HIS ANKLES!! He had to walk around with Colgate on his ankles because he got a sun burn on his ANKLES. When does that happen??

I, on the other hand, am a dark shade of brown, maybe a dark milk chocolate complexion but not mocha. My family is Trinidadian and we look like we are from an island because we are.

Maks is supposed to be a combination of those two things and be a dark caramel sort of complexion. But because of his love of the outdoors he more closely resembles me. There were even times this summer when he was darker than I was because he was spending more times outside than I was. Neither of the boys have the light complexion that Millhouse has. There have been times, in the past, when people have asked darker skinned friends if they were the boys’ dad, not realizing that Millhouse is their father. When the boys are with Millhouse, the most popular assumption that people make is that the boys are mine but they are not his.

Now this has never been much of a problem for Maks until this school year. Maks best friend in school is Guyanese* so his complexion is very similar to Maks’. In fact R and Maks could be related. They are the same height, weight, hair colour and type. If you were looking at them from behind, they could be brothers. They have been in the same class for the past three years but this year things have become noticeable.

And this is what presents the problem.

The boys are using their similarities to confuse their teacher. It has gotten to the point where R will get in trouble but the teacher will yell at Maks to behave. She cannot tell them apart at times. And Maks finds this wildly hilarious and has started to refer to R as his long lost cousin not his school friend.

This is all well and good except for the fact that R’s parents are both the same race and nationality. Maks’ parents are not. Maks has started to pull away from identifying with Millhouse and now only identifies with the Trinidadian genes that he has because R can easily relate to his Guyanese genes. He is noticing just how much different he and his dad are and he is starting to distance himself from his father because of it. When they are together he feels like they do not match because people cannot identify Millhouse as his dad because they look nothing alike. Now if you look past complexion at Millhouse and Maks, you will see they have the same features. They have the same chin, mouth shape, hands, walk and stand. But Maks cannot see all that. He just sees that he and his dad are not the same in ways that other kids and their dads are the same.

I know he is having a hard time processing this. He tries to avoid discussion of race with Millhouse but by not discussing it, it is making it all the more obvious. It is starting to bother Millhouse and this is a discussion that needs to be had.

But I don’t know where to start.

*Quick geography lesson – Guyana is a country on the coast of South America. Indo – Guyanese people tend to resemble Indo – Trinidadian people, but Trinidadians are waaaaay better looking and have a sexier accent. The accent thing is a proven scientific fact, google it if you don’t believe me. And the better looking part is just obvious, ah duh!

Truth or Dare

*I overheard this conversation in progress and only joined it at the end. This one did not involve me directly.  This happened as Millhouse was getting Mat ready for bed.*

Mat: Daddy, do you want to play truth or dare?

Millhouse: Sure

Mat: Truth or dare?

Millhouse: Truth!

Mat: Who do you love more; Maks or me?

Millhouse: *the look of pure fear in his eyes* I love you both equally.

Mat: Nope. You need to pick just one.


Me: This is why you always pick dare.