The problem with kids...

For those of you who know me, you know that I am a mother of one amazing little boy. I only have one child for a few reasons:

1. I am turning 40 this year and for me personally, I feel I'm too old to start all over again with a new baby. (I know this may not be how everyone feels and I don't mean any offence to anyone reading this... it's a very personal decision for everyone.)

2. I honestly don't think I have the patience to raise more than 1 child.

and my most important reason...

3. I truly can't fathom feeling the same way about a second child as I do about my first. He is my world... my everything. He's what I think about first thing in the morning and as I close my eyes at night. I knew from the moment I saw him on my first ultrasound that I loved him to pieces. The first time I felt him move inside me was the most incredible feeling ever. I remember constantly rubbing my belly and talking to this little one inside like we were already best friends. The moment he was born my entire life took on new meaning. Each and every day I look at him with wonder and amazement. So, I wonder... how could you possibly feel this way about a second child???? I know, I know... all of my friends have told me that it just happens. That as soon as the second child enters the world, all of these same feelings start to take shape. But for me personally, I just can't even imagine it happening. Again, I don't mean to offend anyone with this comment, I'm just telling you how things are for me.

So, this leads me to the real point of this post...

This past Tuesday, my little wonder had a sleepover at his little buddy's house. Now this may not seem like a big deal, but for me it was HUGE. Little E has had sleepovers before but always at his "Auntie Claudia's" house. He has known Auntie Claudia since the day he was born. She has a daughter 5 months younger and the 2 have grown up together. Her daughter has spent lots of nights at our house and it was Auntie Claudia who took care of little E for a whole week last year when my husband and I had a wedding to attend in Mexico. In short... he knows her well and I trust her with my life (and obviously his as well).

So, this week, when E's buddy wanted to have E over for a sleepover I was nervous. I wasn't nervous about his safety or well being, I was just nervous that he would be okay without me. He's not good with change, he can be super-duper shy and in general, he's a bit of a high stress kid. I fully expected to get a call at 10:30 that night with him crying in the background begging for me to come and get him and bring him home. But guess what.... IT DIDN'T HAPPEN!!!! I didn't get the call. In fact, I got emails from his buddy's mom telling me how awesome he was doing and how he hadn't even mentioned home once!!!!

I went to bed that night feeling mixed emotions. I was so happy that he was okay, but I was a tad sad that he didn't seem to need me any more!!!! I got up the next morning to an email telling me he had slept all night and was in a great mood. Again, mixed emotions came over me. I want him to always need me and always want to be with me!

So... the real point here?

The problem with kids, the way I see it... is that they grow up! And I don't like this one bit.

Wordless Wednesday

Vacation or kid's birthday party... you pick!

I was talking to my friend Claudia the other day about my addiction to social media. She loves Facebook but has not embraced Twitter or blogging! She was asking me about my blog and whether I've written lately. I shook my head in shame and said I hadn't written for a while. She gave me a great idea for a blog post so today's content is brought to you by Auntie C!!!

For the month of April, little E has a birthday party to go to every single weekend. It's a really great thing for a few reasons: 1. It gives me a little break of a couple of hours on a Saturday where I don't usually have one. For some reason, I've been finding the time useful to do more work!! (When I really should just be getting a pedicure and massage!); and 2. More importantly, it means that my little guy has made friends. This is a huge deal for us in the Ingle house because after Christmas E started being really upset a lot and saying he had no friends and that no one wanted to play with him. So for me, each time that birthday invitation has come home in his school back or been left for him in his daycare cubby, I've just about broken down in tears I've been so happy for him. I haven't minded the slow decline in my bank account to fund all the gifts I'm having to purchase!!!!

But what I really wanted to write about was not the fact that E is coming out of his shell, it's more about the parties themselves and the pressure I feel as a mother to always throw the biggest and best parties of anyone! It seems to me that gone are the days of having a few little friends over to the house to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey and bobbing for apples! Now it seems that each year, we have to throw the shindig of the year. I could quite easily fund my entire trip to Vegas this September with what I've spent over the past 4 years on E's parties. (And I mean flight, hotel, limo to the airport, food, shopping, shows!!!!) And now, I've become my own worst enemy because I've set the bar high and the expectation is there each year to see what the party will entail and what the theme will be.

The pictures above show his last 4 parties (from top to bottom):

1. When he turned 4, we rented the entire ice rink at the Cambridge Centre mall for a skating party. The thing about this is that my mentality was "hey, we have the whole ice, let's invite everyone we know"!!!! So all of a sudden we were preparing 20 loot bags, instead of 6 or 8 and we were feeding 20 kids plus 30 or 40 parents. It was a great party and we all had a blast.

2. When he turned 3, we hired a company called Reptilia to come to the house for a reptile show. They come from Vaughan with a crate full of creepy crawly things (tortoise, lizard, big snake, alligator). We had 10 kids and their parents in the house! Again... a fantastic party, complete with personalized, themed lootbags courtesy of me, and a ton of food!

3. When he turned 2, we rented the caboose of the Waterloo-St. Jacob's train and took all of our friends and a clown to St. Jacob's and back. The train itself was fun (Evan was addicted to Thomas at the time), but we decided to have a clown to entertain the kids on the journey. Everyone had a great time!

4. And finally, when E turned 1, we had a party at Gymboree. Again, it was one of those "heck, we have the space rented, let's just invite everyone we know" situations!!!! Evan was really into a specific dumptruck at the time, so everyone took home a "lootbag" which was actually a dump truck filled with little toys and treats!

So, you can see that I really could have paid for a vacation or some special Tiffany jewelry or something with the cash I've spent on 4 birthday parties! Don't get me wrong... I absolutely LOVE throwing these parties. E LOVES them and so it's all worth it. I just wonder if I should be taking things back to basics and giving him an appreciation for all of the simple things we used to do as kids. I guess that'll have to wait until birthday #6 since I've already promised to have a superhero come to the house for #5!!!!!

Karma x 2!

As you all know, part of my life is devoted to doing some pretty cool stuff for a pretty cool company called Mabel's Labels. I was lucky enough to start working with Mabel's several years ago when I first started freelancing after Evan was born. For the past year, I've been working on a contract with them doing mainly project management, including helping with the launch of all of their fabulous products in full colour (check them out here... they're super cute!).

But the real point of my quick blog today is to tell you a pretty cool story so here it goes! One of the founders of Mabel's Labels is Julie Cole (check out her awesome blog here... she's a mama of 6 and has lots of interesting stuff to say!). She once sent an email to someone that was intended to go to me. Turns out, Julie Cole has 2 people with the same name in her email address book! Now this may not seem strange to you if your name is Lisa or Julie or Mike, but for someone named Karma, this is crazy! So, long story short, Julie Cole has now introduced me to my new friend, Karma Brown! (So, not only are we both Karmas, we're both Karma Bs!!!)

I'm not sure how crazy it is for the "other" Karma, but for me, this experience has been surreal. After all, I've spent almost 40 years of my life as the "only" Karma! But now, the "other" Karma has become my close Twitter friend. And not only is she super nice, with a super cool name, she has an amazing life story that relates perfectly to my last blog post about inner strength. She is an inspiration for sure. Check out her story here and you'll understand what I mean.

So, I definitely think karma was at work that day that Julie Cole made her email mistake!

Inner Strength - Where does it come from?

This past weekend I spent Friday night at home watching TV (okay... who am I kidding... that's how I usually spend Friday nights... This one was only different because I didn't have my laptop with me on the sofa!!!!). I tuned in to 20/20 and caught the most incredible story of human strength I think I've ever heard. It was the story of a British girl named Katie Piper. She was a model, and a beauty queen with her whole life ahead of her when she was viciously attacked by a boyfriend. Basically after he attacked her, he then coordinated having a stranger attack her by spraying acid on her face as she walked down the street. Her incredible story of recovery can be found here:

http://abcnews.go.com/2020/katiepiper

After you read her story, I'm sure you'll agree with me... she is an absolutely incredible woman with strength and determination not often seen.

When I hear stories like this, I always wonder how I would fare in a similar situation. I often wonder where people draw the strength from. Is it something all of us are capable of having if we need to? I don't know that it exists in me... I tend to really draw away from any difficult life challenging situations. There are a few examples of this strength that I've witnessed in my life that continue to amaze me. Here's one example:

I have a dear friend who about 3 or 4 years ago, when she was in her early 30's, was diagnosed with cancer. If it had been me, I likely would have curled up on the sofa and let myself be consumed with the illness. But not my friend... she faced the battle head on. When the doctors gave her the option of a big surgery or chemo and radiation, she chose the more invasive surgical route. When they told her after the surgery that the cancer was still there and she'd have to face the treatments as well, she did it. And now, my gorgeous, strong friend is alive and cancer free and has years and years of fun ahead of her.

So, I'm curious... does anyone know where this kind of strength comes from? Do you have stories of strength you'd like to share? I find them so inspiring and always love to hear them.

Hanukkah vs Christmas!

So way back in my first blog post I mentioned that one of the reasons that I didn't completely change my name when I got married was because I had a great family history behind the "Bryan" name. Well, each year, around this time, I am reminded of what that history is and what it means. So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to tell you all about it.



My family name is actually my paternal grandmother's maiden name. You see, my paternal grandfather was born and raised in Czechoslovakia and was Jewish. His last name was Loewenstein. His family were quite successful owners and operators of a small fine china factory. When WWII broke out, my grandfather and his entire family were sent to Auschwitz. My grandfather was lucky enough to escape, the rest of his family parished there.



When my grandfather escaped, he fled to England where he met my grandmother. In an effort to hide his identity, he married my grandmother and took her last name. After the war was over, he and my grandmother settled in England and maintained the Bryan name. So, you can see why I wouldn't want to give that up!



Now, this leads me to my topic at hand... if I had been raised a Loewenstein (imagine that mouthful... Karma Jennifer Loewenstein!!!) I would likely have been raised celebrating Hanukkah, not Christmas (or maybe I would have been lucky enough to have been celebrating both holidays!!!). So, I wonder what would be better... what would be more fun.



Hanukkah Pros

1. You celebrate for 8 days, not just 1. That to me says presents every day for 8 days!!!! How can you top that?

2. You don't have to pretend to be comfortable with the idea of a big, fat man in a red suit creeping around your house in the middle of the night!!!!! I mean really, who came up with that Santa guy anyway???



Christmas Pros

1. You have to also look at the positives associated with that creepy fat man... I can't imagine anything better than a 4 year old in a Santa hat. Oh, yes I can... I think 60 4 year olds in Santa hats is better than just 1 (can't wait for this afternoon's Christmas concert!!!!!)

2. I don't know what happens for Hannukah, but Christmas dinner certainly rocks my world!!!!!



So, I think either way, I would have done alright. I'll leave you now with one of my favourite Adam Sandler songs ever! We certainly don't have a Christmas song that matches this one!!!!



Happy Holidays everyone!!



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vrd9p47MPHg

How did this happen?

So, I can hardly believe it... tomorrow my "baby" is turning 4. How did that happen? I guess I blinked!