New Year New Sass-Level

You're probably thinking that New Year's resolutions are stupid and cliche and I would completely agree with you. I don't know what came over me at 10:40 on a Friday night. I thought, "hey Tara, you know what would make you even more ridiculously cool? If you made one of those lists you love so much. You know, the ones where you plan out your life!" I said to myself, "planning, lists, more sleep deprivation...who could resist?"



So here I am, six New Year's Resolutions later. I am trying to recall what my resolutions were last year and the ones that I do remember, I am proud to say that I actually kept. I mean, I think so. Hopefully remembering things wasn't on the list. I figure it's a good thing I'm writing these down this year to have some accountability.

How did you know, Great Wise Fortune Cookie?!

The theme for this year is going to be The Abels Gonna Do What the Abels Gonna Do. I have noticed lately how much time and worry I have invested in thinking about what everyone else is doing, how great all of their decisions look, and how they might be feeling about my life. Isn't that crazy? My entire life I dreamed of the day where I could make my own decisions and stick my tongue out at whoever said anything about it! I wouldn't say that I necessarily even consider it in my actual decision-making process but I sure do spend way too much time thinking about how I will defend or explain my decisions to others even though, as a chronic over-thinker, I have put a great deal of thought into any conclusion I've arrived at. Trust me, I have already sat there and picked even the most carefully crafted decisions apart like a cheese-string (but not like the characters they boast on the package. I can never figure those out!) As it turns out, making your own decisions is one of the most difficult things about motherhood or adulthood. There is no one to pat you on the back and say, "oh boy! That was a really great decision! 10 points for Griffindor!" It's mucho confusing and silly to look at a family and think, "those kids are so calm and never whine. Maybe I should parent more like that mom!" Or, "man, that exact sequence of perfect decisions really worked out well for her! I should try that." Pair thoughts like that with this laughable desire to please people (actually, I think it's the desire to avoid criticism because I hate it so! Being right all the time is so much more fun) by living up to some impossible standard where you're everything to everybody and you have an anxiety attack to call your own! The realization that this is impossible is far from new but I think I haven't really had the guts to put a stop to it in my own life before. I'm sick of the self-doubt, the stress over every little decision, the worrying about how people will view me. It pains me to admit that I was even doing that but if I'm honest with myself, I was. Enough of that. I've worked way too hard to become independent for this and twelve-year-old-Tara would be ashamed of me! This year, I'm going to do what I believe to be best for my family and myself and you know what? Maybe sometimes I will be wrong. That's ok! Alright, it's not really ok but I need to learn to deal with imperfection or failed plans. Something not working out is better than never trying out of fear, worry, or being a little too comfortable. So, talk away, people! I will be the first to tell you that Tara Abel is crazy, sassy, stubborn, and not going to listen to a word you say.



This year I will try to:

1) Start getting up before the kids to workout and shower.

This is a most unfortunate thing that needs to happen. Waking up is one of the world's worst evils, especially when you've stayed up way too late to try to experience the long-lost art of silence and then didn't get anything close to a quality sleep because Clementine. However, if I want to break my lazy cycle before TLC sends me an invitation to be on my own show, 19 Unnecessary Snacks and Counting, I need to make sure I'm fitting my workouts in. I envision this as me, opening wide the double doors to my room, showered and in one of those trendy crop-tops all the fourteen year olds are wearing (?!?!?!) that will show off my abs of steel, as little birds flutter around my head while I sing out, "Good morning, sweet darlings!" This will be a big improvement to being woken up to a small baby repeatedly slapping my face, while Theo whispers loudly through my bedroom door about how hungry he is to the background soundtrack of Lu wailing about how the snow is preventing her from wearing her bathing suit to church.



2) Make family time, dates, and friends a priority.

Life gets busy but we should never be too busy for this. Keeping Friday nights as our usual family night was working really well for us. We just need to find some sort of routine to keep up our kid-dates and couple dates.



3) Figure out what I'm doing in regards to going back to school and where I want that to take me.

This is too complicated to even get into but basically it's happening in some way, shape, or form. Just try and stop me, Life's Million Obstacles.



4) Less complaining and being negative.

Sometimes I'm listening to someone talk and I'm thinking, jeez, what is your problem? You sound like a cow. That someone is me. I seem to always be able to find something to whine about and it's ridiculous. I try to always be honest but, when someone asks how I am, it's ok to say that I'm doing pretty well instead of "WELL, LET ME TELL YOU!" There are so many bigger problems in the world than who cut me off in traffic or how my children can only ever find pants with holes in them. Sometimes this negative whining is about other people - even if it's just in my head - and I want to cut that out too. People are doing the best they can and the way they go about that is not always going to be the way that I would. End of story. I'm pretty sure this was one of my resolutions last year and while I can say that I have improved, I'm definitely not cured yet. Get it together, Tara.

Look at those poor children, playing on their own!

5) Play with the kids for half an hour every day.

People without kids and super mothers are probably gasping and wondering what I do all day that this needs to become a resolution. Mothers like me, however, know how tough this can be between ballet and school and dinner and diapers and cleaning bathtubs (ok, ha, you got me. Like I ever get around to the bathtubs...). I've been getting better at this but I want it to be a concrete habit by the end of the year.



6) Pray the rosary once a week

Last year, I was determined to start actually praying every day. I know, to all you saints out there, this probably sounds like some sort of joke but it was truly something I had to really work at. I set alarms on my phone for a while and everything! I would have all these grand notions of sitting in silent meditation for hours on end and - surprise! - that never happened. I finally had to realize that there was not going to be this perfect moment and that I just had to start somewhere. For me, it was before bed. Nothing elaborate but because I started simply, it's become an actual habit that I can now build on. So, here we go!



No New Year's post would be complete without me obnoxiously signing off with NEW YEAR NEW ME, BABY! xxxooo mwah mwah mwah. For real though, I hope you had a great weekend, everyone.



P.S. If you want to listen to something that makes you holler out-loud to yourself in your kitchen, "Yeah! That's right! Do what's best for your own family!" take a listen to this episode of the wonderful Fountains of Carrots podcast.

We're Seeing Other People. They're Our Children.

I remember when I was about twelve, my parents came up with this new system to try to encourage me to finally behave myself. It basically consisted of some sort of point system and the end goal was that, if I got ten points, I got to go to Chapters. This was major incentive because I was a big nerd and had my eye on the entire Nancy Drew section. The part of this that I probably would never have admitted to enjoying so much then, but fondly remember now, was getting to have hot chocolate with my Dad in the adjacent Starbucks. I don't remember what we talked about or what book I ended up buying but I do remember sitting there at the table, drinking sugary goodness, and soaking in the precious one-on-one time with my Dad, as only the oldest of seven could.

At some point during my recent exhausting pregnancy, I started to feel incredibly guilty for how many Netflix Naps I was taking. For those of you who are not familiar with this term, that's the time of the day when you tell your kids that they can watch a Paw Patrol or two and, once you've passed out on the couch with your mouth hanging open in a charming manner, they actually end up watching.....seven. You gotta do what you gotta do and all but I knew I wanted to start being more deliberate about the time we were spending with our kids. I also wanted to get into the habit of spending alone time with them, due to the imminent arrival of Clementine, because I knew how quickly baby life-takeovers happen, once those sweet dictators are on the scene. We decided to start dating our children, which is not as creepy as it sounds, I swear.



Now because we live the poor life (ok, in a first world problems kind of way), we had to find some really clever mostly-free ways to wine and dine our new love interests. Luckily for us, it turns out that kids are very cheap dates and easily impressed by things like M & M's and spending time together outside. In all honesty, we have put a cap on the snacks portion of the date lately because it was all a certain food-loving child of ours cared about and we were starting to get a little jealous. We felt all the "when do I get a treat? Is it treat time yet? Can I have five Kinder Eggs instead of one?" was sort of distracting him from the point, which was realizing how awesome and hip his parents are.

The hardest part about the dates has been that we have two children that go on them, which means that one is going and one is staying. There are usually some tears from the child who gets left behind. I hope that the more the outings become a regular thing, the more the left-out child will be able to relax and realize their turn will come. Either that or eventually Clementine will be old enough to also feel the pain and the two sad children can cry and commiserate together. Either way!

I try to make sure that I spend my time with them really trying to get to know them as an individual - their likes, dislikes, quirks, plans, view of the world, and whether or not they like to take long walks on a beach. I try to focus on those stories they tell that might still be going on when we are out shopping for old-age homes together. I try and think of the most thoughtful questions I can and really listen to their hilarious responses. I put my phone away. I try to let them take their time and not tell them to hurry up. The stuff other normal good mothers do but I sometimes forget in the chaos of a regular day. So far, Matt and I have taken them:

- to the park to play soccer

- to Starbucks, for hot chocolate and a necklace-making sesh

- to the animal shelter, just to look and not to come home with a kitty. Seriously. No.

- on a hike

All of these were enthusiastically received.

Some ideas we have for the future are:

- skating

- pottery painting

- going to a farmer's market

- picnic time

- sitting on a hill with some sketchbooks

- checking out the Lego store

- going to a hockey game (or let's be real, probably lacrosse because $$$$)

- taking them to an event happening in the city

- going to feed the ducks (in what feels like a million months from now. I can dream!)

- fro-yo (is that still a thing?)

- exploring a new park

- bike-rides

- Ikea ( you probably think I'm kidding but I'm not. Ikea is the most magical place on earth.)

- getting their expert help with a project, including a trip to a hardware or home store

- garage-saling

This weekend, I am taking Tallulah to see a version of The Nutcracker for kids and we are both looking forward to it. I expect to leave with a beaming daughter and me in tears because I will never be that graceful.

Do you date your kids? Do you have any great date ideas you'd like to share? I'd love to hear them! And, if you're wondering, no, my parents' point system didn't work. I am proud to say that to this very day I still don't behave myself.

I'm Still Alive I Think

See, they can practically teach themselves while I run away to Mexico!



Things have been all shades of nuts lately but here are some quick updates.



Clementine is almost eight months old and I'm still acting like she's a newborn! I don't know if I'm just trying to soak up every minute of her babyhood because it's been so long since I've had a baby or what. All I know is I'm carrying her around every minute of the day, haven't ever left her for more than an hour or two, and do everything in my power to prevent her from crying. It may sound loving but it looks a lot like crazy. I'm very attached to her and she to me, even though I think we are driving each other insane. I really do think I need to start taking more time for myself though, so I'll work on that.



Homeschooling is probably best left to people who have no other option but to stay in their houses at all times while they are waiting to be transferred into witness protection. People will tell you how much fun they are having with their children all day and how the joy is just reigning down upon them - #blessed. Well, as Maury would say, the results are in and it has been determined that that is a lie! At least for our family. Homeschooling IS fun, about 10% of the time. The rest of the time it is a lot of work, my friends. I'm not even talking about the school portion. The actual schoolwork is hardly a problem at all and truly one of the best parts of it. The actual hard part is the having your kids around all day so that, in order to be alone (EVER) you need to hide in the bathroom with the doors locked, stuffing chocolate in your face. It's having your kids, who previously got along so well, start to be at each others' throats because of how much time they are now spending together. It's having to take them all grocery shopping. Every. Damn. Time. It's my house that is in such a state it could give the people on hoarders a run for their money. As an added bonus, I also get to listen to them have philosophical arguments all day, with titles such as Stop Looking at Me, Don't Look out my Car Window, I've Never Seen that Toy in my Life but All of a Sudden it's my Spirit Animal, and my personal favorite I'm Not Singing That Song About You I am Singing it To Myself. Needless to say, it's killing me. I will say that there has been some good in all this. I have been able to see Theo start to read and spell and the excitement that lights up his face when he realizes that. I have been able to spend deliberate time with them every single day. We have gotten to spend a lot of time with our fellow homeschooling friends and had many new experiences. We've read some great books, I was reminded that I should never ever go into anything involving math because its the worst, and we don't have many early mornings. I have also been able to get to know myself even better and confirm that I am indeed an introvert, who loves silence and cleanliness and organization. The jury is still out on whether all of that and my burning desire to torture myself are going to be enough to make me do this to myself again next year. I thought it was only fair to come clean so that all of you who thought I was losing it for attempting this experiment can feel really good about yourselves for being right and all those who are saying, "I don't know how Tara does it!" or pondering trying it for themselves can do so with eyes wide, wide open.



Someday soon I am going to get up the nerve to post a fitness update. My hesitation in making myself get up to take progress pictures should give you a good idea how it's going. It's going lazy. I have good spurts and then a day or two will go by where my workout just doesn't happen. Soon those days are weeks and here I am! Re-watching The OC like I'm twelve instead of squatting this butt into a shape that actually resembles a butt. At any rate, progress has been made, many pounds have been lost, and a new and exciting workout program has been found. More on that soon.



We're renovating our basement into an actual useable space. This means re-arranging my house a bit which is both thrilling and stressful. Pictures to come. I am more than overjoyed to have a place to shoo the lego, googly-eyed craft supplies and my children.



It's almost Christmas and for once in my entire life I can say that I have successfully finished all my shopping well in advance. This was mainly due to me realizing that online shopping is the greatest thing in the world. I just couldn't even with the actual mall this year. I basically step one foot in there, immediately feel overwhelmed, and start crying and blowing my nose on a stranger's sleeves. I thought I would do everyone a favor and stay home this year and I will never do it any other way! We have successfully forgotten to use our new Advent wreath every single night, my kids have those scandalous Advent calendars with actual chocolate in them, and we haven't made a single manger craft that wasn't arranged by someone else at a kid's program. So if you feel like an Advent failure, you're not alone. My cure is to stop pretending like it's going to happen and just accept that this is who I am. A big fat Advent failure who can read Christmas books, maybe make ornaments or bake cookies to give, send up some extra "HELP ME, GOD!" prayers and participate in the events the church is offering. Finally, I am ok with that and am a calmer mom for it. Feel free to stay off Pinterest and be an Advent failure along with me!



Well, I better go clean something so that someone can come and make a mess of it twenty-one seconds later!

Name Talk

Oh where to begin. I love names! I want to ask everyone about their names and their kid's names and their kid's doll's names and all the names! My baby stalking habit on Facebook is getting a little creepy. I spend far too much time on naming sites, checking name popularity stats, and reading birth announcements like only a true fellow name-lover could understand. I could probably talk about baby names for hours and of course they've really been on my brain these days. As with nearly everything I do, I'm always obsessed with making the most perfect decision ever known to man. If I make a mistake, I'm sticking my kid with it for life!

When I was younger, I sometimes wished that I had been named Emily or Ashley or something that ten of my friends were named. Now I don't mind having a different name and I actually kind of like it. Ok, my name doesn't seem all that different but the Irish way my parents pronounce it is different than the regular pronunciation. That part gets a little annoying but I've just stopped correcting people. The introvert in me doesn't think it's worth the mortifying moment of having to correct someone. At any rate, my parents put alot of thought into their decision and I've always appreciated that and the story behind it.

There are so many things to consider and I think that the motivations behind choosing a name are different for everyone. For us, it started out as

1. A name we both liked.

2. Something recognizable but different. Nothing popular or requiring our child to be known by first and last name to identify them.

3. A nice meaning is always good.

4. Family name for a middle.

With Theo, we didn't have any trouble at all. It's a name we have both always loved, we definitely didn't know any other Theo, it means "gift of God" (being 18 and pregnant, it never hurt to shove this fact in people's judgy faces...oops, did I just say that outloud) and we gave him my dad's name for a middle, which just happened to be a name that we both liked as well. We weren't sure if calling him Theo was too nick-namey, so we gave him the full name of Theodore, just in case he wants to use it when he becomes a doctor. No eyes were really raised with this one. I mean, maybe a few but I was completely sold and didn't care. We had to forbid a few people from calling him Teddy but no blood was shed. He's such a Theo and it was a perfect pick.

Then came Tallulah. To this day I cannot tell you how that name came about. I've always liked it but I had sort of forgotten about it until I was pregnant with her. If Theo had been a girl, his name would have been Norah. Tallulah wasn't even on the list. Somehow, I stumbled across it again and loved it. Loved. It. The look of it, the sound of it, the spunkiness. To me it was a unique but easy-to-say name that was a little retro, full of personality, and pretty. I didn't actually think it was all that out there until I tried it out on my husband. He thought I was nuts and wanted to "just call her Sarah or something." I tried to fall in love with a more conventional name but it just wasn't going to happen. I spent hours on the millions of name sites I pour over and nothing felt as right to me as that. So I started to try it out on my baby bump to see if I could turn Matt around. At first there was a lot of "stop calling her that!" but when she finally arrived, he said "So let's name her Tallulah then?" and the rest is history. It suits her perfectly. I had originally thought she would go by Lulah and wasn't a huge fan of Lu or Lulu. As names do, it changed with her and now she goes mainly by Lu or Lulu and a whole bunch of other nicknames that I never could have predicted. In the end, Matt seemed alright with Tallulah, so that sort of fit the first criteria. We definitely haven't met any other Tallulah's but people never seem to mishear it, probably thanks to Bruce Willis and that actress Tallulah Bankhead which I have tried to avoid finding out too much about because I heard she was rather wild and didn't wear underpants or something. Again, not about to look that up. Tallulah means "lady" or "princess" which seems to suit how very girly she is. Matt chose her middle name which honors his grandmother, so that box is checked off as well. Bonus: it's also super satisfying to say when she's in trouble AND I know that when she's running away from me, she knows exactly who I'm talking to!

I would say that I don't usually share my babies names before they are born but I don't think that that's actually true. My lack of self-control usually leads me to tell a few people and there are always a couple of close friends who I try it out on or corner to make them listen to my pro-con list. I think the problem with this is that if you put it out there for opinions, you actually get opinions. Duh. This can be really great and help you to think of things that you haven't thought of. It can also be really confusing and make you doubt your choice. Sometimes, there are good reasons to re-think (i.e. naming your kid after a Game of Thrones character, taking a normal name like Jake and turning it into Jaiyyke with a silent X, naming your kid something you completely made up on drugs at the birth, etc) but sometimes, it comes down to personal taste and I think you really just have to go with what you think is right for your kid. I put on this whole you-can't-tell-me-what-to-do air but really at heart, I think I'm a huge people pleaser and when it comes to something like this, I really really want everyone to love it as much as I do. I'm realizing this time around that a baby name that absolutely no one could have a problem with just does not exist. Which is great actually, because if that name did exist, everyone would be called the same thing and how boring would that be!

Our criteria has changed a bit over the years. When we picked a name for the baby we lost, we realized we had unknowingly added

5. No more T's. (Complete coincidence the first two times. I loved Tallulah's name too much in spite of the T but it irks me to this day.)

6. Full, possibly three syllable name with a nickname is a good option.

We ended up choosing Augustus (Gus) Matthew. Another name that seemed so very right to us and it meant a lot to me that we gave him a name that reflected his siblings'.

So what do you name a sibling for Theo, Tallulah, and Gus? I feel like we have really parked ourselves into a naming niche now. We almost need to add:

7. Kind of quirky or retro.

8. Something that goes with our other children.

Sibsets might not be important to everyone but they are too me. I've always sort of done a (hopefully sneaky) head tilt when someone says their kid's names are Peter, Anne and Jagger. What happened there? How is Jagger going to feel about his name being the one that doesn't go with the others? My feeling also extends to having an Isabella, Sophia and Sloane. It doesn't seem fair to give the two daughters such girly names and have Sloane stuck with a more masculine sounding one.

Plus, you can write off all the names that rhyme with your kid's names and anything that doesn't go. For example, we will never have a Theo and a Leo. Naming a child something like Lila wouldn't make much sense either because that's a lot of of L when you're calling Lulu and Lila across the playground.

Do you see what I mean?! It's like a name spiral. It makes my head hurt but I can't stop thinking about it! With this baby, we also don't know the gender so I really have to be on my game. My first instinct for a girl's name was actually much more of a classic choice than the one we seem to be heading for. Surprise! That was actually Matt's doing. I couldn't believe my ears. I'm trying to love our more classic choice and get Matt on board as well because, depending on how many future children we have, I'm going to have a really hard time coming up with many more individualistic names. We're still sort of waffling around but we seem to have at least solidly landed on a boy's name, much to my relief. I was worried for most of this pregnancy that if it was a boy, he would be nameless. Once again, when we found the name, it just fit. I mean, I hope it fits! We always have a few backups, just in case....

This Is It and It's Ok

Well, this baby is due to pop out in 10 weeks which is both exciting and semi-terrifying (almost as terrifying as when a little friend of Theo's, who was over to play, got talking with with us about our new baby and piped up with, "Babies don't really 'pop' out though, right?" I said "Not exactly...Oh look, a distraction!") I realize that I've had two kids before so this should be like riding a bike, right?

I'm hoping this will be a much easier bike than I have had to ride in the past. When Theo was born, I was nineteen, fresh off the marriage boat, living in my in-laws' basement, and though I didn't know it I was struggling with depression and anxiety. Our possessions were basically second-hand baby clothes, one year's tuition for a journalism program I would no longer be attending and whatever generous people had given us for wedding gifts. I remember one night, in between HGTV marathons and breastfeeding, crying my eyes out while kissing Theo's little nose and telling him it was going to be ok. I could do this, even though I had no idea what that was going to mean. It turns out that it meant moving into a sketchy teeny first apartment and eating a lot of chocolate Costco muffins and chicken drumsticks because I was still learning to really cook. We would cuddle on the couch to the smells of the neighbours' pot haven across the hall. Life was frustrating but somehow it was ok. Theo was a sweetheart of a baby and made things really easy for us. We were totally in love with our wild-haired little boy.



We found out we were pregnant with Lu pretty quickly - read: Theo was still five months old. At the same time, Matt had been looking for a company to start his plumbing apprenticeship with but it was the recession and nobody was hiring. Friends of ours in Edmonton put him in touch with a neighbour and next thing we knew, we had leapt at a job offer and we were moving. When we told our parents all of that news at once, there was some happy talk but also some speculation that we had really hopped on the train to the town of cray. Looking back, I can completely understand the mixed reactions but at the time, I was feeling a little lonely staying at home with my tiny baby so I figured one more would really liven things up. I had friends in Edmonton, we wouldn't be there forever, it would be ok.



Fast-forward to another terrible apartment in one of the sketchiest parts of Edmonton, where I would spend my entire day alone because we only had one car. Still, I tried to make it as pretty as possible in that small small space and to fill the long days for Theo and me. After experiencing what I thought was gas turned oh-yeah-those-are-definitely-contractions and an almost car crash, beautiful Tallulah was born. Lu had reflux which meant the poor girl was in pain and cried alot. Feeding her was challenging. Actually, doing anything was challenging because she had to be on me at all times. My mom came to stay and help for a few days and when it was time for her to leave, I was more than a tad worried about how I was going to handle a 14 month old and a newborn. I remember making it through the first day on my own and going, I can do this. I can really do this. I have to wash my newborn's clothes at the laundromat but I can do this.



Matt ended up getting an even better job offer soon after and we moved into a much nicer neighbourhood, in a townhouse with quite a bit of space, an area for the kids to run around outside, and - thank God - a washer and dryer. I got a job at a gym down the road in the childcare department which really helped break up the still lonely and still long days. Matt would go to work before the sun came up and would often be gone until after dinner. We were both exhausted and, without our parents around, we didn't really get a break. Still, I loved being a mom and I tried really really hard. I learned about healthy eating and my cooking slowly improved. We sang and we read and made faces at each other, like good moms and babies do. I tried to be patient and I tried not to yell. I told them I loved them and kissed their sweet faces multiple times a day. Still, nothing I did was perfect enough to please myself and the depression and anxiety steadily got worse. Life got nearly impossible then but that's a story for another day. The point is, things were much much harder then than they are now and my first two experiences of babyhood were a complete whirlwind. Sometimes, I wish life had been easier then so that I could enjoy what fleeting time I had while my babies were small, but I know I did the best I could with what had been thrown at me. In the end, I suppose that's all any mother can say.



At one point, I had hoped that my third baby could be sort of a do-over. A chance to have that perfect mom experience. We have our own home now, we live close to the support of our parents, we have a washer and dryer and even a dishwasher, and I'm better. You know what? It's still not going to be perfect and that's ok because perfect is not real life. I'm going to the enjoy the crap out of this baby, even if it still has to ride around in some clunky cheap stroller, wearing some hand-me-downs from its siblings. I might be a bit scared of doing this again and it might be hard. Hopefully, things will never be as hard as they once were but I know that I can do scary and I can do hard. All I really have to remember about a baby is that cliche old ladies say on repeat about how fast it goes because it's true. You have to enjoy those speeding moments that you get because they aren't ever going to slow down. No matter where you're at or how your life is packaged, this is it. And most of the time, it's pretty wonderful.