Is that how the saying goes?

Guess The Angus Diaries is where my heart is. I just can’t fight it.

I just took Angus to get his 12/18 month shots. (Oh yeah… he’s almost 21 months. We’re a wee bit behind!)

I had a late night last night and woke up early to go to this appointment so we were both pretty grumpy this morning. But Angus perked up when we got in the building and saw all these neat corridors to run down and doors to open and people working to charm/irritate!

Sure he played with a few of the lame toys with the other kids. But that got boring pretty quickly… and then he was off like a shot, running like a marathon runner up and down these hallways, sleepy mother grumbling behind him.

And then there’s all these sweet, gentle children, playing with the toys in the waiting room, staying close to their parents. Why couldn’t I have one of those quiet, gentle children who clings to their parents? I’m so quiet and gentle myself and I’m not outgoing with strangers… but I have this boisterous, ROWDY, difficult, LOUD child! Sometimes I really don’t know how to deal with him. I know I’m not one of those wishy-washy mothers — I had no problem being firm with him and the occasional swat on the hand is ABSOLUTELY necessary. The kid is super strong-willed — I have to assert my position as authority figure early on! Before he’s bigger than me!

But sometimes I get nasty looks when I am pinning Angus down to get his boots and jacket on. I guess it looks like I’m being rough with him But they don’t understand! The kid is STRONG! And he puts up a fight! One must be agile and strong to manipulate those windmilling arms and legs into outdoor gear. And super quick too, to avoid getting a black eye.

And of course, whenever we leave a place, and he doesn’t wanna leave (which is always) he throws a world-class tamtrum, hurling himself to the floor kicking and screaming and making a huge scene. My usual method is to do the Supermom wrestling maneuver to get those arms and legs into their jackets and boots, and then tuck the feral animal under my arm and make a tight-lipped, speedy exit, not looking at any of those other mothers with their angelic little children. (I hope those kids turn into world-class brats later on.)

(I’ve said it before — this must be my life lesson to learn. Something about patience and tolerance. Or maybe he was sent to me to teach me to adopt some Angus-like qualities.)

So anyway, he was weighed and his height and head circumference were measured. He’s 30 pounds now, which doesn’t surprise me. He’s in the 10th percentile for height… and the 75th percentile for weight, haha. So he’s gonna be short and stocky. (With a gigantic head, too.)

He’s starting to say lots of words now, too. Right when I thought I couldn’t take anymore of hearing the word “NO!” shouted all day long… he’s now come out with, “NO WAY!” Sometimes accompanied with a flying object hurled at my head, such as my coffee cup.


More favourites:

“Oh fuh.” (Er… is it wrong that I think that one is kinda funny? Bad mommy!)

And this one: “Ugh, why.”

Sometimes I think Angus is a really, really bad child. But most times I think it’s pretty normal behaviour. He’s just ‘spirited.’ That’s what they say to describe kids like him, right?


Either way, it’s lots of fun. Between dodging teeth and nails and flying trucks and black eyes and bruises, he can be pretty sweet, too.

How can I stay mad at him for being bitch-slapped when he turns right around and smacks a kiss on my lips?

Dear faithful readers:

I have started a new anonymous blog.

I felt like my writing was starting to get kind of dry and boring over here. This is why:

The stuff I feel compelled to write about lately is not so Angus-centered anymore. (And well, it IS called “The Angus Diaries.”) Now that I have kind of settled in to (sort of) motherhood, my journey lately is not so focused on struggling as a parent — it’s struggling as a human being. Hence the reason for a new blog. 

That is why I feel my writing has become dry and boring over here… and then kind of just fizzled up altogether. I’m not able to just be totally honest, and I NEED to be honest and heartfelt if my writing is going to have any kind of meaning at all. So I have been cheating on The Angus Diaries and writing somewhere else lately.

At first I had the new blog on super-duper secret privacy settings (as in, only I could access it) but yesterday I decided to make it available to people who I give the link to (but it won’t be searchable on search engines.)

So anyway. If you are interested in continuing to follow me, in more of a personal journey than a parenting journey, please email me and I will give you the link.

I TRIED to send out a group email — searching through past comments and stalking all of your blogs… but got way too exasperated trying to locate a contact email for each and every one of you. (The biggest problem seemed to be with Blogger users — dunno, just couldn’t find contact info ANYWHERE with you guys!)

Plus, I am way too fucking impatient and have way better things to do, like killing zombies or smashing gnomes.

Hope to see you over there. (You don’t even have to write anything in your email. A simple ‘yes’ will suffice. Or even a blank email I will take as a sign. I would even accept a carrier pigeon carrying a scroll…)


ETA: two hours later, I just thought of this — alternatively you could just leave your email in a comment. Then I can forward the link to you.)

Some Updates.

Hi everyone!

I took a little break from the Internet for a while.

What a weird couple of weeks…

To summarize:

Two Mondays ago, Aaron went into work like usual, but was told to go back home and pack his bags, he was being sent to Fort Nelson for work. This was great news, because camp jobs usually mean lots of money, because they work looooong hours, and so there’s lots of overtime.

But since he was gone, I had nobody to watch Angus while I went to MY job — so I had to go in there and explain to them why I couldn’t work that week. They were NOT impressed.

So I went home and cried about it. Then I felt this sinky, depressed feeling at the thought of being alone all week.

I talked to my friend who had just moved to Sylvan Lake (about a 7 hour drive from here.) I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to go visit her. Maybe I just needed the company of a girlfriend!

BUT when I talked to Aaron on the phone, he was NOT thrilled about it. He refused to let me drive that far in our car, saying the front end needed work, we need two more winter tires… what if it snowed?!

So my friend bought Angus and I a plane ticket! Woohoo!

Anyway, I won’t go into detail about that week spent visiting my friend. I thought it was going to be a relaxing week, but in fact it was the total opposite. I was a nervous wreck the entire time, worrying about work, worrying about money, worrying about EVERY. THING.

Not to mention a bunch of her inlaws were also visiting, so it was a big party the whole time. Pretty much the opposite of relaxing.

But boy was I EVER happy to come home! The trip was good for something — making me appreciate my own home, my own bed, and my own family.

So anyway, I went in to my work again, to explain to them that I thought I would have to quit, because there was a good possibility that Aaron would be sent off to camp again, with little or no notice. I hate not being able to be reliable. So they suggested that instead of quitting, maybe I could just be ‘on call.’

So that’s where I stand with them. But on Monday when I went in to check the schedule, I was not on it for this week. I felt pretty bummed about it — I didn’t think I would be let go THAT easily! And we could have really used the money right before Christmas…

Oh well.

In a way I’m  relieved, because of all my internal struggles lately. I feel like I need to take some time to figure it all out. So I’m enjoying all this solitude, at home all day with Angus. And winter has finally arrived (bringing snow and an average temperature of -12 degrees!) so I have been happy to NOT leave the house.

(But I know it will get old soon, and it’s not good for anyone’s psyche to be that isolated for TOO long.)

Oh — and I saw the doctor about the results of my blood tests. Everything was normal except my cholesterol levels were kind of high. Well I KNOW that that can be related to thyroid. But my thyroid levels were normal.

And being a typical doctor, he gave me the same dry, shpiel about eating well and exercising.

Then I cried in frustration. I KNOW it’s thyroid. And I KNOW that not many doctors take that seriously, or they don’t know enough about it, or they’re just ignorant.

Well THEN he told me that I had just had a thyroid SCREENING test. That I could have another more extensive blood test if I wanted.


So he sent me off with the lab requisition for an ACTUAL thyroid test.

As well as a prescription for antidepressants.

(I guess that’s what they give you if you break down in tears in a doctor’s office.)


Whine, whine, whine…

I try not to write depressing blog posts. I know that most of you who read my blog are much more interested in reading about Angus. This is, after all, The Angus Diaries.

But sometimes when you are going through a tough time, it helps to write about it. And for some reason, I write better when I feel like I have an audience. I like to feel like I’m connecting with someone. I guess.

So I’ve written before about having some minor health issues. I suspected thyroid. I’ve had it tested three times since having Angus — the first time my levels were high, and the second and third time they were normal. Yet for over a year I’ve had every classic symptom of hypothyroidism.

Anyway, lately my quality of life is becoming pretty affected by WHATEVER is going on. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind; I don’t know if this is all in my head and I just need to get off my arse and get my shit together. Especially when you have ‘normal’ blood test results. That especially makes me feel like it’s all in my head.

And all the symptoms are kind of vague and they come and go… it’s not like anything is life-threatening, but it IS definitely starting to affect my quality of life.

The most annoying symptoms are INCREDIBLE fatigue, and eyes that are so dry and scratchy that they just make the feeling of fatigue worse. I just want to close my eyes all the time. When I wake up in the morning it’s the worst — I feel clumsy and groggy and fuzzy-headed and my eyes — they BURN!!

But isn’t it normal to feel like you’ve been run over by a bus when you wake up in the morning? I don’t know. Maybe it is. I don’t think anybody likes getting up at 6 a.m.!

I figured my tiredness was just due to normal daily life. I have a toddler, and work evenings. I don’t really get any exercise. But I get about 6-7 hours of sleep a night, and then have a 1-2 hour nap during the day when Angus has a nap. That should be adequate sleep, right?

But lately I’ve just been feeling so much worse. I’ve had a chronic headache for about a week, that doesn’t go away with pain relievers. I’ve been taking eye drops (from the optometrist) for my dry eyes, and they help slightly, but not completely.

My moods have been ALL over the place. The day before yesterday I was so depressed I did nothing but cry and mope on the couch all day, and then felt like I was such a shitty mother for not engaging with Angus and wallowing in my sadness instead, and then consequently felt even more depressed.

Some days I wake up angry and irritated. The cat gets punted across the room. Angus gets yelled at. And then I hate myself and feel worse.

I forget things; have complete mental blocks. I lost the baby wipes and was pulling my hair out trying to remember where I had put them — finally found them later when I was cooking dinner. They were in the freezer! Try wiping a butt with a frozen baby wipe…

I put Angus in his car seat, got in the car and drove off — and then COMPLETELY FORGOT where I was going.

I’m clumsy — probably killed a few brain cells from bonking my head on cupboard corners. The other day I was carrying Angus down the stairs, totally MISSED a stair, slipped and landed flat on my back. (Angus was okay, of course!)

I’ve also been getting migraine auras. I though I was just having some fun hallucinations, but the optometrist explained they are migraine auras — the visual disturbances of a migraine but without the severe headache.

I saw a doctor on Tuesday. He sent me off for some bloodwork and a glucose test, which means I have to fast for 10 hours before going. Which means doing it first thing in the morning. Well I just haven’t got around to it yet. But going to try for Monday morning.

So, I’m sorry to be such a downer! But that’s why I haven’t been posting much. I feel like I’ve lost a lot of my sense of humor. I don’t feel very interesting lately, hence not having much to write about.

Feel free to tell me to pull my head out of my arse!

As much as I say I admire Angus’s strong will and independent nature, most of the time those wonderful personality traits actually manifest in ways that make me want to run face first into a brick wall.

This child is so busy! He has NO interest in TV. Who doesn’t love watching TV? And lord knows I’ve tried!! I wouldn’t mind at all if he sat still for 15 minutes, long enough for an episode of The Wiggles.

And trying to change his diaper? Have you ever tried to put a diaper on a feral cat? Neither have I. But I can imagine that all the flailing claws and teeth would be pretty similar to changing Angus. Unfortunately this is an event that happens about six times a day. And you’d think running around with poop squashed to his butt would bother him, but NOPE.

And lately, every time I go to the grocery store/bank/whatever, a tantrum happens.

Because he wants to RUN! And be FREE! Who wants to be strapped into a boring shopping cart? Booooooring.

I’ve tried giving him junk food, small change, ripped toys out of the packaging before I’ve bought them, made faces at him…YOU NAME IT, I’ve done it, just trying to get him to not freak out for 15 minutes so I can get my shopping done. But usually I CAN’T get my shopping done in 15 minutes, so he starts throwing things out of the cart. Then starts trying to climb OUT of the cart. Then he just gets pissed and if I have the misfortune of getting close enough to him, my hair gets pulled, an earring gets yanked out, or I get slapped.

Other shoppers stare at me, or say things that are supposed to make me feel better, like, “Ohhh, someone needs a nap!”

As if I’m so stupid that I would take him out shopping when he’s tired! Hah! No, he’s always an asshole like this. Of course I make sure he’s had a nap before we go out.

People, I have one of THOSE kids. The kind of kid that I used to shudder at before I ever had kids.

We are so opposite, him and I. I am pretty quiet and introverted. Kind of lazy by nature. I am perfectly content to sit alone and read a book for hours. I like solitude. I like quiet. and I have been blessed with this boisterous, LOUD, social, busy little kid. Who yells. And throws things. And hits. And hates shopping. (So in other words, he’s a boy.)

And the part that I find the hardest is that he’s not a cuddler. Even when he somersaults down the stairs and lands on his head, I go running, pick him up and give him a hug, and he just pushes away from me.The kid is SO independent. I know it will serve him well when he’s older, but sometimes I just wish I felt like he needed his mummy sometimes.

So there it is. Angus has taken me by surprise since the day he was born, and I’m still coming to terms with the fact that he’s not the little mini-me I was expecting; a daughter, sweet and gentle and quiet.

But, like everything in life,  this is all an important lesson I need to learn. Probably in tolerance, or patience or something. Something I obviously haven’t quite grasped yet.

But The Universe gave him to me as a son and me to him as a mother for a reason. And even though %75 of the time being a mother to him is nothing but FRUSTRATING, I still love him %100.

And he’s only a year and a half into his life —

So he’s got his WHOLE life to make it up to me! He he.

(Today was just a frustrating day. There were waaaaaay too many tantrums.

And way too much fucking poop.)

(I can just imagine my mother-in-law reading this and cackling because my description of Angus is exactly like all the stories she has told me of when Aaron was a kid.)

Dear Angus,

Today you were strangling the cat.

You often strangle the cat, and I know you only do it because you just love that cat SO. DAMN. MUCH.

And I also know you do it because you know that somehow when you squeeze the cat just right she will make a noise, which tickles your funny bone and makes you giggle. But I’m trying to make you understand that it HURTS the cat when you do that. And I’m worried that one day I won’t be looking and you might accidentally strangle her just long enough to maybe kill her. And that really freaks me out.

So today you were strangling the cat, yet again. And I guess my reaction today was because of my own stress — I am pushed to my own limits of what I can handle and I am becoming pretty impatient these days. (The fact that I am taking it out on you is a BIG red flag that I need to slow down and re-evaluate things.)

So I tried to pry your hands off the cat, but you wouldn’t let go.

So I yelled. You still wouldn’t let go. The cat’s eyes were bugging out and her tongue was sticking out.

So I smacked your arm. Probably harder than I ever intended to.

And it surprised you and then you dropped the cat.

So I guess it was effective…

But oh God, I never wanted to do that. Your face looked so betrayed and hurt, it broke my heart instantly.

Immediately I just wanted to turn back time. WHY oh WHY did I do that? What happened to me to make me lose my cool like that over something so stupid?

Your face, your beautiful, innocent, baby face, it screwed up right away and real, serious crocodile tears spilled over those big, beautiful cheeks and your eyes looked at me all scared.

I just wanted to die.

I scooped you up into my arms right away and apologized repeatedly into your hair, but you wanted nothing to do with me. You shoved me away, and yelled in my face and pummelled my chest so I put you down and you just sat down on the floor and cried. (And I do not blame you at all.)

I then sat down on the couch and cried myself, and I guess we cried together for a while, you because you were startled and hurt and confused, and me because I felt like such a horrible mother and I felt like this would affect you forever and you would never forgive me, ever in your whole life…

But then I felt something on my leg, so I peeled my tear-stained face off the pillow I was hugging for dear life, and when I looked up I saw your little blond head resting on my knee, arms around my leg, wordlessly telling me everything was okay.

And then when I stroked your hair you lifted your head and grinned and pointed into the kitchen and said, “Cookie?”

Angus, I love you so, so much.

Thank you for forgiving me. (Or for having the attention span of a flea and being easily distracted by junk food — another byproduct of my awesome parenting. Either way, I’ll take what I can get.)


This is what I see every day in my rearview mirror.


On the fence.

About the job situation. I’m driving myself CRAZAY trying to figure out what I should do.

Pros of staying at current job:

  1. Good money. (Even though I don’t even really have to work because of Aaron’s gigantic raise, I am pretty motivated to earn lots of money right now so we can start getting out of debt and working towards buying a house.)
  2. I actually like the job. I love the girls I work with and as it turns out, I kind of like bartending. I also love the social aspect to the job; like I said, everyone who works there is wonderful, and same with most of the regular patrons.

Cons of staying at current job:

  1. I am totally burning out. I have a nasty head cold AGAIN — just got over one last month! I’m pretty sure it’s because my immune system is down because of not getting enough sleep and being too busy to eat well.
  2. Sleep deprivation. Work until 11:oo pm and then can’t usually fall asleep until 1:00 or 2:00 am because I’m so wound up from being busy and listening to loud music at work. Then sleep for about three hours before I have to wake up at 5:30am to drive Aaron to work. (I usually take a morning nap with Angus, but it still feels like NOT ENOUGH SLEEP.)
  3. Working five days a week. (I requested to have my shifts cut back to three or four a week, but because there is only one other bartender who has another job, they would have to hire another bartender. I felt bad and told them not to worry about it, I would just suck it up.) Five nights a week is hard for me. I’m running on barely any sleep, and because I’m the one home during the day (and because my husband is a slob — still love him, but that’s just the way he is) I am still the one who has to do all the cleaning, dishes, cooking, laundry, wiping bums, running in circles after Hurricane Angus, and somehow make sure I’m looking presentable with my hair done and makeup on and clean clothes on before I go to work.
  4. Not having any time with Aaron. I think we see each other maybe half an hour a day. Last night was the first night in a week that we actually had the night off together. And since usually Aaron is stuck at home with Angus, he really wanted to go out and play his guitar with his friends, which I totally understand. So he did that, then came home, and we were up late just so we could spend some time together.

Pros about the new job:

  1. Only would work three days a week, during the day: Friday, Saturday, Sunday. That would mean time with the family.
  2. I would be hairdressing.

Cons about the new job:

  1. Not very good money. At least to start with. It takes a while to build up clientele. (But like I said, the potential is there to make GREAT money.)
  2. Trying to find childcare. I looked into it, and most places only do Monday to Friday, 8:00 to 5:00. I have my teenage babysitters, but they’re in school, so they can only babysit after school and on weekends.
  3. I’m freaking terrified that I’m going to suck. It’s been a few years since I worked in a salon — I’m afraid I might be a bit rusty.

So, there it is. I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to say FUCK IT and just not work at all. But I know that as much as I am burning out and feel like there is ALWAYS something that is not getting done because there is not enough time in the day to do everything, I know that I NEED to work. It fulfills me, makes me feel purposeful, and it’s one way to not go stark-raving mad from the isolation of being a mom at home all day. And as backwards as it sounds, I actually feel like I get MORE done now than when I wasn’t working, because I know I have a time limit at home; I have only so much time to get the laundry/floors/cooking/dishes/etc done before I go to work. For example, I had a day off yesterday. I pretty much did not get off the couch for any reason other than to feed Angus and change his butt. I was just not motivated to do anything. (Granted, I AM sick.)

But I’m the one who ends up suffering, because I hate it when the house is a mess, and it just doesn’t seem to bother Aaron.

I feel kind of annoyed that mothers are still expected to do it all. Like, when I talked to my boss about cutting my shifts back. He said he would ask the other bartender if she wanted any extra shifts, but because she DOES have another job, she probably wouldn’t, and he would have to hire another bartender. Well then I felt bad, so I told him not to worry about it, and that I would just suck it up. He looked relieved and said something along the lines of, “Atta girl!” and held up his hand for a high-five. (He’s that kind of boss… waaaay too peppy, and he walks around calling people by the nicknames he’s given them, making people give him fist-bumps and high-fives.)

I feel like people (like my boss) make ME feel like I SHOULD be able to handle all of this: life at home with a toddler and then go to work at night. I mean, the OTHER bartender has another fulltime job, so of course she can’t work extra shifts. I mean, I’m at home all day, surely I can handle it.

And I know he will never understand, because he is male and has no kids. (YET! — his wife his pregnant… so soon he will understand, but not totally, because he’s a man. No offense to men — but generally speaking, mothers have more responsibilities than the fathers do, even in this so-called modern day and age.)

Everyone is different. Some people can handle more than others. I am still trying to figure out what my balance is. I know I need to work — but I can’t work TOO much. (At least not in these early years of Angus’ life.)

There’s always something suffering — usually it’s related to housework. But lately it’s starting to be things like my own health that is suffering. And I feel like Angus isn’t getting enough attention. I’m either too busy trying to get shit done and dragging him around with me running errands to play with him, or I’m so exhausted that I can’t do anything else but lay on the couch and try not to fall asleep while Angus plays by himself. It makes me really sad.

I just feel like I’m having such a hard time keeping up with everything, but I HAVE to keep up because I feel so encouraged by people when I burn myself out and work myself to death, and I feel like people look down on me when I say, “Hey, I can’t do it all.”

(Well this post turned kind of long and rambly… I’m having a hard time trying to collect my thoughts and turn them into words.)

I cannot WAIT until boss has his baby. Even better, I can’t wait until his baby is a toddler and he’s trying to run a restaurant with a miniature tornado underfoot.


Payback’s a bitch.

*Edited to add: Another crazy search term used to find my blog: “Walks into the club and all the bitches.”

Um. What?!