The Case of Selective Mom Memory

I`d heard of this phenomenon a long time ago.  Back then, it had to do with forgetting birth pain.  The other day I was talking with a friend of mine and she mentioned that her and her three boys all had colds at the moment.  I said something about liking all of the cuddles when the kids were sick and she said hers were just cranky.  It reminded me, in fairly quick fashion, that mine are cranky too but that was not the first thing that came to mind when I thought about sick kids - oddly enough.  

Tonight - before supper - as I was cleaning up spaghetti sauce from the floor, and some hot chocolate drops, and some blue stuff that I still haven`t been able to positively identify - I noticed I was silently chanting I love my kids, I love my kids.  

This made me think about the fact that I`m adamant about getting my morning hug from each of my kids and telling them that I love them.  And in the morning, I`m not saying it because I`m trying to keep my cool - I`m saying it because I think it`s a nice way to start the day.  Before dinner tonight ... it was to remind myself how lucky I am to have kids to clean up after... I guess.

In the morning I will greet my sleepy-eyed children with a hug and kiss and tell them that I love them; and I won`t even remember that I lost some skin off my knuckle while I was trying to wipe up little spills.  So I just wanted to say how thankful I am, and how awesome it is, that selective mom memory exists.  Even if it`s early dementia, it still has me looking forward to my morning hugs.

Happy evolving!

The Death of Me

As I walked down the stairs, with a basket of laundry and almost killed myself on a backpack that was at the bottom, I wondered, briefly, if there was a drop off centre for unwanted children nearby.  There is seriously no reason I can think of that we are still going through this "pushing" stage on their chores.  I know it's supposed to happen.  I know I'm just supposed to keep pushing through it.  But what if it does kill me?

Homework and three chores a night is all I demand. Not ask, DEMAND.  And without the attitude, if you please.  I am really in over my head - and with the teenage years rapidly approaching, I can't help but think I might not make it.  Maybe I'll be done in by haphazardly strewn shoes on the stairs.  Perhaps it will be a car, or Lego.  I could get myself tangled in one of my own housecoat ties that Hunter refuses to leave on my actual housecoat. 

Or maybe I will forget how to breathe after one of the times I'm holding my breath to keep from screaming blue murder.  Or, once I lose it, maybe I'll have an aneurism or a stroke.  Heart attack?  Definitely an option.  After tonight, I know I might slip on soup that didn't quite make it into the toilet but somebody didn't see the need to wipe up.  And don't even get me started about what else I might slip on in the bathroom that three young boys use all the time.  The water stagnating in the tub might break my fall, or we could add accidental drowning to the list of possibilities - after I've fallen , knocked myself unconscious and landed head first in it.

Then of course there is always starvation.  There's always a little hand out for anything I make for myself.  Tonight it was buttered bread to eat with my soup.  Maybe tomorrow it will be my whole plate.  Oh yes, as a mother, I think there are plenty of ways to die a sudden death at the hands of my children.  However likely, I happen to be aware of the constant danger and must be vigilant.  I need to stay strong because I think I plan on running away after Hunter moves out. 

It's Either Really Smart or Really Not

It's a sunny afternoon.  There's a sense of urgency as I pull up to a stop sign; or maybe it's just impatience.  I've never been this way before and there was no sign indicating "right turn only" so I accidentally pull out too far and back up before I realize I have my own lane.  There isn't much traffic but enough that I was concerned about merging into it.  The sun is shining in my eyes as I watch to the left, looking for a safe time to go forward.  Even though the lane is open to me at this point, I'm watching to make sure I don't cut someone off who might be attempting to move over.

Finally, I pull out and head toward the bridge.  Everything looks completely normal until I am almost above it - the ground has eroded just before the bridge.  We make it onto the bridge but get out of the vehicle.  Rather than take the time to consider what any of this means, I run towards the far end and can see that there is a chasm between the bridge and the land.  I'm pulling the red Radio Flyer wagon and I figure I can make it if I jump.  Leaping off, I realize that I am nowhere near close enough and fall towards the river that appears to be hundreds of feet below.

That is how I woke up yesterday morning and it's of some import for two reasons: one; I haven't remembered my dreams for months or years (and I used to, vividly); and two, ho-ly crap. 

There are two sides to the debate on what, if anything, dreams mean.  The scientific explanation is that our subconscious is working through our random thought process and utilizing our waking sensory experiences - and they are meaningless.  The other, older side, holds the view that our dreams can tell us something, either about ourselves or the future.  I've always believed a little bit of both. 

Credit: cosmosmagazine.com

We can attach any sort of meaning we want to anything at all; superstitions, beliefs, or just being open to attempting to understand something that we didn't understand before.  Though I've definitely had meaningless dreams, I don't count this as one of them. On the one hand, I wonder if it is a testament to how quickly I'm going and I need to slow down and think through my future actions.  It could also mean that I've failed.  Or it could just mean that I'm scared of failing.  Thanks to science, I used to consider them to be about the present and about me, my thoughts, my fears and all of that.  I still do.  Since I'm quite often the main actor, no one could convince me otherwise.

However, I also take the position that our dreams are windows to the subconscious and can tell us something important: usually about what we fear.  I don't think of this as a past tense dream.  Instead, I think I'm telling me to slow down and consider my next steps.  Of course, that's what I've been spending the last three weeks thinking about anyway (and hence, it is just a visualization of my thoughts).  But that's why it means something to me.  My intention certainly isn't to jump off and hope to land on something.  I don't think.  But I am definitely impatient and perhaps I'm telling myself that I have to be patient or it will be like jumping off a bridge when I actually didn't have to.

Sorry I haven't been around much

I feel like I need to apologize for not writing lately; I've been preoccupied with job hunting.  It's not my most favourite thing to do and I have to admit, I've been feeling awfully down about the whole thing.  My apology though, is because I really didn't feel like sharing.

I'm not positive about what people like to read from me, though if I count plus ones, it's kid stuff. Since I wasn't able to separate the cloud of inadequacy, I wasn't interested in writing about kid stuff because as they say, "the cup runneth over".  You know how there are those times, when everything seems to be going wrong? Well that has been me, for about three weeks, and I hated to admit it.

Right at this moment, I feel as if I'm being pulled in so many directions and there is no working compass.  I want to be home more for the kids but I need to work. I went to school to gain opportunities but there are few opportunities in town that utilize my education and allow me to still be around.  There are plenty of opportunities in the city but that requires a commute and likely a decline in family happiness.  I went to school so I would never have to be a file clerk again and now I find myself looking at these jobs as an opportunity to be home at a decent hour- and it makes me want to scream.

So here I am, have been, frustrated over the aforementioned issues and adding to this what feels like absolute selfishness because I refuse to apply for the jobs that would allow me to be home at a decent hour but that I would definitely despise every minute of the day.  Now, I have a line on one job, in town, that requires my education and that I would excel at because it is something I have experience in and something I have a passion for - but it's covering a leave of absence and may be "three weeks or three months... or more".  I hope I get it anyway.

The problem is that I've never had this problem before- this intense desire to be at home.  I'm fighting with it.  I feel like if I have or pursue a career, I'm not being a good mom.  If I don't, my kids can't have extracurricular activities and I'm constantly out of money (and maybe not being a good mom?) - I feel torn.  

Add to all of this that my student loan payments are scheduled to end in 110 months or something like that and I'm like- I'll be fifty??? What the f-ing f was I thinking????!!! 

Um, and then hub found this in the freezer. It's wine. Frozen. It's a wine Popsicle.  I will just have to deal with one thing at a time. Wish me luck.

Crabby Much Hunter?

Did you know that there is a law that is in direct contradiction with your personal liberties that says you are not at liberty to enslave yourself?  Yet, we are encouraged to reproduce.  If that gives you any sort of indication about what is to come, then, good. 

Hunter was grumpy with me after I made the ill-thought out decision to give him the oatmeal he asked for.  In his defense, he said "Mom, can you make me some sugar porridge" and handed me a packet of apple porridge.  I saw this, after I emptied it into a bowl.  I hesitated but gave it to him anyway. 

"Mom, does that have apples in it?" He asked with slight confusion.  "Yes" I answered, knowing full well what was coming next. "Oh, man!" He sighed and hung his head.  I made him brown sugar porridge instead.  But I got him a new spoon. "But Mom..." he sighed; and hung his head.  I removed the offending cutlery and placed the bowl in front of him.

"Mom, can you get me some water?" He asked.  "In an Ironman cup?" I checked the cupboard and saw that there were no clean Ironman cups to be found. "I don't have an Ironman cup, but will this (boring plain coloured cup) be okay?" I hoped.  "But I want an Ironman cup!" He cried; and hung his head.  "They aren't clean and you don't want a dirty cup do you?" I asked sweetly.  He sighed.  His head hanging low and his bangs danced on top of his porridge.  "No." He said finally and I brought him water in a boring cup.

"Mom, my porridge is too hot!" He said sadly and then he hung his head. "You have to blow on it" I reminded him.  "Ohhh," he sighed. "Can you do it?" And I stood there, wondering when I became such a gopher as to bow to a demanding three year old who had yet to say please or thank you this morning.  Maybe I stood too long because he then took a bite of his porridge and said "Mmmm. This is real good Mom. You're so nice to me." And I wonder how they know when they've gone too far and need to make up for it; but I'm ever so happy that they do.

Five Minutes of Hunter

Hunter, the three year old, is usually pretty excitable.  That probably comes naturally given the fact that he is both three and a boy... and the youngest of four of course.  Tonight Geoff wanted to watch a couple episodes of How I Met Your Mother.  Fine.  Hunter was still up but we went for it anyway. 

The catalyst, other than the fact that we wanted to do something that did not involve him directly, was when he grabbed my root beer (from yesterday - ew) and chugged ... Then he was ON.  He has a piece of a Monster High Doll stand that he uses as a sword.  He was swinging and jumping and waaaay too close for comfort.  We still tried to watch the show.

Geoff and I were laying on the couch, I was on the outside. Hunter put something (I think it was an old "sword" that held bubble blowing stuff) in my hand and then fought with it.  All I had to do was hold it in one place.  We still tried to watch the show but he was getting more and more rambunctious. Finally I tossed that blue thing out of my hand out of fear he was going to impale me with his sword.  "But that makes me sad!" he cries.  So we paused the show and let him go. 

Within the span of about 4 minutes, he fought swords, posed for eighteen photos, jumped from the floor to the end of the couch, to the other end of the couch, ran around the ottoman, fought some more swords, back up to see Dad on the couch, posed for a few more shots and then miraculously... we were able to put him to bed.  I need my sleep, people.  That kid has energy.  And why shouldn't he?  He so obviously stole it all from me.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

The title is a little ominous and from my current viewpoint, I can't help but feel that way anyway.  I'm thinking of going back to work.  I have all of these great ideas that, unfortunately, will cost money - I'm just not sure that the working at home thing is going to be right for me at this point. 

I imagine many stay-at-home Moms think about this.  Would it be better to be outside the home or not?  And by "better" I don't necessarily mean more satisfying or bringing in an income. I mean... should I?  Being at home is hard - there's so much to do and I am well aware of the fact that there's still going to be so much to do if I go back to work... but will it be easier??

Credit: empowernetwork.com

I did a cost analysis.  For me to go back to work and have care for all of my children, it will cost me around $2000.  Does that seem insane?  Yes.  Yes it does.  That's just what it costs.  Hahahahaha - can't wait to see the look on the accountant's face!  It will also cost me in travel and clothing.  So I stand to pay out a minimum of $2600 per month to go to work.  Really?

What on earth is the point??  Oh right, dental - for Miss. Me's impending braces; pension - for the not really impending but eventual retirement; money to pay for the immense number of extra-curricular activities that the kids want to do; money to pay my student loans back; oh right - and possibly number one on the list: NOT having to ask my hub to bring home money to give to the kids so they can buy whatever they want at the book fair because I don't have any left. THAT.

But there's other things to consider. I like baking stuff for the kids lunches.  I like being here when they get home to make sure they do the stuff they're supposed to do.  I like having the time with Hunter.  Sucks to have to make the decision to go back... maybe I need to try harder at that whole dayhome thing.  Paying out $2600 a month seems ridiculous; even if I could afford it.  There are pros and cons.  I will have to get back to you on this.

The Children Were Nestled...

...by the fireplace.  There's a chill in the air and I can't help but enjoy each sunshine-y day.  Well, it certainly seems as if I'm in a good mood - and I am; I think.  On what feels like day one hundred and seventy six thousand and two of our recently integrated schedule, there was no fighting.  There were a couple of smarty pants remarks but there was no fighting. 

I painstakingly ensured that everyone had the same amount of chores each day as well as the same amount each week.  Miss. Me looks at the schedule today and says "Why do I have to unload the dishwasher four times a week?"  I was calm, though I admit, slightly paranoid because I made the schedule almost a month ago and I was worried she had found some obscene unfairness within that I had missed.

"Well," I said (after I counted them up) "you could have dishwasher duty only twice a week if you did it all by yourself but you have four because there are two of you to share it..." I was prepared for a "I'd rather do it by myself and only have two days a week" or something of the sort that would require me to redo the entire schedule but I got a surprise.  She just said "Ohhhh, right;" and proceeded to unload her half of the dishwasher. 

They did homework.  Again, with some slight complaint but everyone settled down and did it.  Miss. Me, again, asked "Why do I have to use that book? It doesn't even make any sense!" It's a grade 5-6 Summer Bridge book I picked up and never made them do over the summer.  "You have to do it because unless you bring something from school, you will use this." I replied, oh so calmly, still.  "Well I'll just bring my own stuff home then." Came the uppity reply.  Huh.  Well, you just go ahead and show me who's boss baby.

I would calculate this as a win but I think I'm still in shock; and tomorrow is a new day of course.

Mom on Strike?

Sometimes it's easy.  "It".  The word is deliciously vague, yet always refers to something specific.  I haven't written in two days because "it" wasn't coming to me.  The "it" was humour.  However, after a brief memory that came to me this morning, I do have an inspiration.  "Moms on Strike".

Kids aren't doing their chores and they're not following their schedule.  Of course, it's my responsibility to make them follow their schedule but I won't take all the blame because they have a responsibility to follow the rules.  Hunter is fighting the little things he's supposed to do and in general, I'm getting severely miffed.  Nothing else has changed; they're still asking for this and that; Mom can you make cookies; Mom can you make sure my shirt is clean for tomorrow; Mom can you make this or that; Mom can you take me here.... I'm feeling like ... a Mom.

I've been outside the home many times over the past nine years.  Work, school and work; I've not always been at home.  I am perfectly aware that whether or not I "have time" to do these things, they will still be requested.  Everything still has to be done.  My question is why does it have to be so one-sided?

I watched a movie on W once, called Moms on Strike.  I honestly don't think I had any personal experience with the whole thing at that point but I didn't doubt the premise.  And though I know that as much as I would like to go on strike, it is unlikely to happen.  In fact, I consider the past two days of being outrageously tired and falling asleep while everyone else enjoyed a nice dinner as a "feeler" for being on strike.  As I suspected, I just have more to do now.  So a strike doesn't seem like a good idea at all.  Maybe I just needed the reminder.  In writing.  "Hi-ho, Hi-ho" people.  Those dishes aren't going to wash themselves.  Grumble, grumble.

More on Memories: and Blue Hair

Yesterday I wrote about how quickly the kids grow up and it's along the lines of conversations we've been having in my house for the better part of a week.  When I think about the fact that they only have a short period of time to be kids and how there's like this clock ticking for us parents to give them everything they need to know before we send them out into the world... well sometimes I'm left feeling like I'll never get it all in!

Miss. Me is eleven and a budding fashionista.  Okay, she's already a fashionista - and she wants to do more.  Over the past few days she's been asking to dye the tips of her hair.  Thanks to a post by Barbie, Bieber and Beyond, I know how to do this.  Miss. Me would like those tips to be blue.

Credit: glamour.com

My initial reaction is "Ugh! No!" But then it got me thinking about how short their time is.  Sure we need to prepare them to be adults.  It occurred to me as we were discussing this blue hair that they only have a few short years to be able to do something like that.  When do you want your child to do something silly?  Okay, maybe the answer is "never" but let's be realistic here.  If I keep an extremely tight leash on them until the day they turn eighteen and then say "now you're an adult, you can do what you want"... they probably will.



Credit: geekosystem.com

Do I want Miss. Me to show up with blue hair the day after her eighteenth birthday? Yeesh, I hope not. Would I prefer her "blue hair phase" to happen when she's eleven?  Well, between the two choices, yeah, I think I would.  As adults we know how irrelevant those years become once we're past them but in the thick of it, well their peers, school, activities - it truly is their entire life.  And it does go by quickly.  They only have a little bit of time to dye their hair blue before I want them to start acting like an adult - even if I want them to prepare for it; if they can't be a kid now, then when?

So, yes, I've managed to convince myself that I will let her get blue tips.  Once I found the two photos it helped: a little blue versus the possibility of a full head of blue? UM, Yeah.  I suppose I've just reminded myself about the power I do have as a parent.  If I allow her to get the blue in her hair, I can opt for something similar to the first photo - because I'm making the decision; and she will be thrilled.  If I hold out until she can do what she wants, I could end up looking at something like the second photo.  Damn.     

Lest We Forget

As Ethan was getting ready for bed last night he said "Oh, right, school tomorrow.  That sucks."  And I replied "I'm so jealous! I really miss school!"  He gave me one of his little grins. "Feel free to trade me places any time."  And I was taken back to a memory I have kept with me of one moment in a grade four classroom.

I vividly recall sitting in class one day and thinking "One day, I will be in grade twelve and I will remember sitting here in this desk and wishing I was in grade twelve."  I was so excited to grow up, to be older.  I can no longer remember if there were other parts to that memory; if I had special plans or anything, just that I wanted to remember the desire.  And I did - still do.

Ethan has never shown anything other than an interest in a future career to go along with getting older. Ocean is a preteen and impatiently awaiting all of those amazing firsts she will experience on her journey to womanhood (Heaven help me).  Aaron has been impatiently awaiting the day when his wants override ours.  Ethan, not so much at all.

I'm amazed at how the realization has hit me, and how I tell my expectant adults that they really have very little time to be children.  I'm probably getting through to them just as much as my Mom did to me but it's true - and it really does happen quickly.  I didn't see it much before but when I really think about it, the time that seems to be the longest is before they become school-aged.  Then it just flies.

And it's difficult not to let them get excited about all of the things that becoming an adult brings: driving, increased responsibility and autonomy, career choices, college, travel... there are so many benefits to being older.  I count myself lucky, and them too, that I have as many children as I do because they have been able to enjoy their time with one another and I have been able to keep them at home more often.  This is the only time of their lives that I have that control - and I hope they come back often too.

Thinking about my moment in grade four, I gave Ethan a big hug and assured him "I would love to go back to grade four!"  He looked up at me with those beautiful blue eyes and said "Um, okay, but I'm in grade five."  Oh yeah - that's right. 

One Night, One Morning

Geoff is usually home around 6:00 and then we have dinner.  Normally, out of the kindness of my heart, I wait for him before we eat.  It was nearing 7:00 when I still hadn't heard from him and so I got dinner on the table.  He showed up at 7:30 and didn't say a word.  I was a tad grumpy.  Then, as I sat down to write my blog, he mentioned that a co-worker of his had arrived... at our house. 

I'm by far at my most hospitable when I haven't showered and I get surprise company that was only a surprise to me.  That morning, I had also been awakened by Geoff's alarm at 4:30 and apparently he did not have to be up at that time.  So I was in an all-around pleasant mood with him by the evening. 

We had a reasonably late night and I was certainly less angry than I had been earlier; I even liked him again.  We had some good laughs, reduced some stress and just enjoyed ourselves.  I was borderline forgiving of the second time he'd left his alarm this week and woken me up.  At 4:45, he wakes me up because he thinks his foot is broken.  I was not impressed; after all, it hadn't been broken last night!  I called him a cab and gave him a mop to hobble out with.  Perhaps that was a little harsh as he certainly seemed to be in pain, but I was having none of this on the third morning in one week.  He came back around 7:00 on crutches.  Blood poisoning.  Don't ask, I have no idea.

The rest of the kids made it out to the bus and Hunter was thrilled that Dad was home for the day.  It also didn't take him long to realize that Dad couldn't chase him.  Hunter threw underwear at Geoff and ran away yelling "you can't catch me!"  He made a game of this for a little while until Geoff stopped seeing the humour in it. 

Afterwards we headed out to get his prescription filled and I have no idea why, but Geoff insisted on accompanying Hunter and I.  Hunter wouldn't stop asking all the way to the store:  "Dad, look at this!" "Dad, did you see that?" "Dad, what is that?"  "Dad, how do we go far away?" "Dad, are we going this way or that way?" I giggled and giggled because Hunter just has such unlimited energy.

And of course once we were at the store Hunter became more excitable.  Geoff: hobbling around the store. Me: window shopping because I can walk.  Hunter: "Dad, can I have this?" "Dad, come see this!" "Dad..." "Dad..." "Dad..." I was howling by the time we got back home because he just kept going and I could tell that Geoff was having a hard time keeping up.  I couldn't help but laugh because Hunter was sharing his Hunter-ness.  Hey, you wanted to come for the ride, smart guy; by the way, I like you again.

I Don't Mean To Be Grumpy

This is only the second week of school.  You know how those moments kind of sneak up on you... those ones that come every day ... the grumpy kids.  Last year was tough trying to keep everything organized and make sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, plus keeping up with the house and my own stuff.  Exit my own stuff and you'd think it would just be easier.

Yesterday morning I dropped my phone in the lasagna pan that was still sitting on the counter, full of water.  It made a bigger mess than you'd think.  So I removed it from it's case and got it into a bowl of rice.  And mopped the floor.  It probably needed it anyway, but I've had better mornings.

I realize I still have things on the go.  It's not entirely different in some ways other than the fact that I can do the majority of my stuff at any time.  So I started the kids on a schedule.  Last night we had it out.  I have a list on the fridge of before school routines, after school and before bed.  The best thing about this is it also reminds me so that I can remind them. 

I've got them doing scheduled homework time and even if they don't have homework, I have things for them to do.  I'm trying to instill a habit, that's all.  Their chore list is easily seen and they have two per night.  Two empty the dishwasher.  The other one tidies their bathroom.  One sets the table and the other two tidy up after dinner.  It's fair.  They switch each day. 

After a brief discussion about video game time (only an hour tops and only before dinner), renaming the "clear table" to "clean up after dinner" (to avoid future issues with the expectations) and reminding everyone that these are their responsibilities to be done every night... Hunter.  He starts with our nightly disagreement about whether he will wear a diaper to bed.  I realize that I knew the arguments would start soon because that's what kids do.  Hunter - well I'm hoping that fight will go away like the other things he did eventually changed with consistency.

I'm certain it's not helping that I think I'm slightly sleep deprived.  Twice this week I have awoken to Geoff's alarm, at 4:30am.  Both times, he didn't need to be up - apparently.  The first time, I made coffee.  This morning, he's lucky I'm not violent.  I'm just hoping Hunter had a great sleep last night and is ready to get up soon.  That way we can nap at the same time.  And I can be somewhat refreshed to go at the schedule again when the kids get home from school.  Oh, and I'm back to square one on the no yelling thing; for the second time since I started last week.  Yep, it's just been one of those weeks.

Somebody Needs A Nap

I admit, it was me and that was before Hunter became concrete-footed about going grocery shopping.  He was adamant: "No, you go!" I tried to be nice. I tried to be firm.  "No, just you go!" In the end, I bribed him with a possible treat.  So I got him in the car at least.

When we arrived at the store he didn't want to get out.  No one wants to be that mom whose kid is wailing and disturbing all the happy shoppers.  "Why can't I stay here?" He asked.  "Because I can't Hunter, come on, I need you to pick out your treat." I begged. He finally looked like he would. "I want to get out that door" he said, pointing to the other passenger door. "Fine" I agreed, "I will open it for you." Then he says "No, you get back in and I'll come up." I didn't lose it.  I closed the door and counted to five hundred. 

He slowly made his way to the front seat.  I went to open the door. "No, I want to do it!" he pouted.  I closed the door and vibrated.  And waited.  He looked like he had the handle but there was no movement.  I simmered.  Nothing.  I couldn't stand it.  I did have some sort of timeline here as I was trying to get back home before the kids finished school.  I opened the door and he protested and I picked him up anyway, carrying him as he cried and arms wide as he stared longingly back at the truck. 

He doesn't like being in the cart but I just wanted to get the shopping done.  I put him in and he continued to cry. "Okay" he tried, "I'll listen!" "It's not that, Hunter, I just want to be quick." And he cried and cried while I tried to grab produce.  Eventually he was able to move himself into the top basket but he was still in the cart so I left it be.  Then he got to the lower cart.  Then he got out.  At first he was helpful. 

I replaced two jalapeno peppers that he picked up for me.  I replaced bagels. I couldn't find him.  He came back.  We got to the dairy section. "Can I have this?" He asked, holding a Yop.  "Yes you can, please stay with the cart." I replaced Jello.  I grabbed milk and couldn't find him. "Hee hee hee" I heard from behind the freezer.  "Okay, I see you, come back please." He ran and hid by the chips. I waited and patiently called him.  He came back after about three times.  We kept filling the cart.  I continued to replace stuff. 

We got in line and I remembered I needed two more things.  We left the cart and he followed.  He hid behind the water.  "Come on Hunter" I called.  He followed.  I'd lost my place in line.  "No worries" I told the lady.  And I meant it.  Whatever. It was just a completely full cart waiting to be unloaded.  "Ooh," Hunter says as he pokes at the cart, "Marshmallows." "Those are for rice crispy squares" I told him. "Oh that reminds me" says the lady who took my spot "I need Rice Krispies for that too. You can have your spot back." And I was actually glad that she didn't ask me to hold it for her. 

We were in line, everything was out of the cart, and I was waiting to pay when I realized - again - that Hunter was gone.  I assumed he wasn't far and I paid, moved my cart out and went to see if I could find him.  He was in fruit.  In a box of fruit.  I picked him up and brought him back to the cart, opened the yogurt drink and made him sit.  I packed the boxes up and came home.

About fifteen minutes after I'd finished putting everything away, Hunter comes in "Can I play at William's house?" "Yes you can" and he's so excited and happy yelling "She said yes!" and ran to play with his friend.  Little kids suck.

Inspiration Comes From Everywhere

This morning I read the following blog and decided that I need to try this again. With four children, I have to admit that yelling is my least favourite thing.  Before I ever had my first child, (I've mentioned this many times, I know) I saw the episode of Oprah with the man who authored "How to Behave So Your Kids Will Too".  When the explosions go off in my house, they are loud. 
Diary of a Doting Mom: 30 days and Yell-Free! Five things that I learnt from my challenge

One day I might order that book.  I get the premise, loud and clear, so I've never seen the need to actually read it.  Anyhow, let's get back to embarrassing truths.  I grew up in a family that yelled.  I was also spanked with wooden spoons.  I kept the yelling for my own kids but left the wooden spoons out.  I also had children in a time where parents were suddenly (and I do mean suddenly) being called to task for child abuse if they disciplined their children in public.  Now perhaps the media made this more sensational (no, not the media) but it freaked people out.  My own decision actually came from the inherent hypocrisy in constantly telling O and E not to hit and, then what? Attempting to get your point across by hitting them?  Even as a new and completely inexperienced Mom, I realized it wasn't going to work for me.

credit: vector-art-graphics.com

So, the next best thing I guess, from my own upbringing is that I yelled.  And now each of them yell.  When everyone gets going it's incredibly loud... and embarrassing.  I remember Nana saying to Mom back in the day "Quiet down! What will the neighbours think?" At that point of course Mom was so mad that she would yell back "I don't give a damn what they think!"  That's probably the censored version.  Actually, it's definitely the censored version. I remember something about "flying"...

Of course, I grew up in a different time and situation.  I remembered how stressful it was with the constant yelling and I've tried to stop before.  I have a feeling this will take a few tries.  But thanks to the success story of another, I am adamant that I will now try again.  In fact, since I've started writing this, I've already had a chance to practice because Hunter peed on the carpet.  How lucky am I to have this constant test of my abilities?  Probably luckier than I feel at this exact moment.

I AM IN CONTROL!

I say this because I actually managed to get my kids to do all of their chores right after school.  There were a couple of sour moments like "I hate this day" and "I'm having the worst day ever", but in the end, they were successful and I was beaming.  Almost as much as my mirrors but not quite because the job was really sub par.  However, I'm not going to even bring that up because he's 7.  And he tried.

This day fairly rocked because I felt like I accomplished a lot.  Having more than a couple of kids has its benefits.  I may not have personally accomplished a lot but the vacuuming, dusting, kitchen and mirrors were all completed within a half hour because they helped me.  Or did their chores, however you want to think of it. 

credit: icorp.ca

Yes, things are coming together  nicely.  The kids have, in the last week and a half, done their chores, their homework, their reading, and their bedtime routines.  I expect that I will have severe disobedience issues in the upcoming weeks because (apparently) that is what happens when you introduce something new: they take to it, you're happy, then they completely disarm you by pushing back to see if it will stick (thank you again, psychology classes).  Apparently the key to an actual transformation (or building a habit) will come by making it through this stage. I am in control, I am in control, I am in control... Wish me luck.

In other news, after the homework session which inspired my last post, I decided to add "Shitmykidssay" quotes to The Mom Evolution page on Facebook.  Sometimes they crack me up and other times, well, if it's happening to someone else it's always funnier.  Besides, I want to put it in writing - so they can have an idea of what to expect with their own children one day.  Or at least so I can sit them down and say "Look what I went through!"... when I'm old and decide it's time to toss my filter away.  Because I am in control; so it will totally be my choice.

There's Hope If There's Humour

So it's been almost three months that I've been blogging and recently I figured out Twitter, which has made me neglect the Mom Evolution Facebook page because Twitter is mind candy... bad mind candy.  Stay with me - I have a point.  The kids know I blog mostly about them and usually my Facebook updates are about them, and now I tweet about them. 

A few weeks ago Ethan said "Mom, we should get more credit for all your posts and pictures because we do everything and you just write about it."  Fair enough, young man.  I showed him some blogs so he could tell that they were all getting credit for everything they did.  The thing is, sometimes I think they are going above and beyond what normal children do at times, just to give me a good story.  Like I needed that.

I have included homework time into the schedule so they know the expectation is there.  On this, their fifth day of school, they still don't really have homework yet so I'm giving them pages from those educational school curriculum books that I cannot help buying whenever I see them. Ocean has a math test on Friday so I had her doing some math stuff.  She complained and whined and it was annoying. Then with a completely straight face she says "I can't wait until math grows up and solves its own problems."  I smirk.  I tweet.  That was frickin' funny. "Are you tweeting that? Are you putting that on Facebook?" They know.

Credit: zazzle.ca

"Okay, back to homework." Aaron finishes up his snack and goes to put his spoon in the sink right at the exact moment (I guess) as Ocean is trying to lug the milk up to the counter - there's a collision.  There's squealing. "He got right in front of me!" "She hit me with the milk!"  "Guys come on!" I say exasperatedly. "Sometimes you have to keep your eyes open for others because you are not the only person in the world!" To which Ocean replies, "No, there's lots", to which Aaron adds "and some of them are blind."  Oh my. I smirk again.  I tweet again.

It is beginning to make it extremely difficult for me to not laugh at these guys.  Sure they make me think my head will explode some days, but I can't be doing that bad of a job if they're going to have this kind of humour.  It's just not possible.

Not Fun, Just Thought-Provoking

Where to begin?  My power went out this morning at 8:30am. Ironically, I had asked Geoff yesterday if he had remembered to pay it and he informed that he had.  So I called the company just to see and turns out it was the whole town.  So fine - it only lasted twenty minutes or so.  Hunter did not do well with it however.

Have you ever tried to explain a power outage to a three year old?  Well they don't quite get it; especially if you had just put Diego on because that's what he'd asked for.  He was really mad.  Eventually I recalled that the laptop had been plugged in all night and I could probably use that.  Here's something you probably never think about - wireless internet: it's reliant on power.  So there was no Netflix and therefore no Diego.  I managed to get him to pick an actual disk and everything was set.  I also knew that since it wasn't a horrible day out, we could head to the park as well if things stayed off for a while.  Turns out though, I am ill-prepared for an apocalypse of any kind.

As I mentioned, the power was back on in less than a half hour but a lot of things were going through my head during that time: fridge contents, freezer contents; there wouldn't be hot water for all that long.. little things like that.  To the best of my knowledge, we still need to get more propane for the BBQ too so I would have been S.O.L. for the day had I needed it.  Now it's not that I think there's really going to be an apocalypse but this experience made me aware of the fact that I'm not prepared for a daytime emergency situation. 

I think most people have a night-time emergency kit, the candles, flashlights etc., and a car emergency kit for winter driving (in Canada anyway) but do you have a daytime emergency preparedness plan?  I don't!  My fail safe is literally "Go to Nana's or Grandma's house".  I suppose since I still have that choice, it will likely remain my go-to.  Another thing you probably only think about when the power is out is that your cordless phones don't work either.  I used to have an old handset that I kept just in case because it must have happened once and I knew I needed it.  Sure I have the cell but I don't use that much for talking...

All in all, there was not much fun today and the afternoon was spent riding the kids' butts on their chores and homework and studying, but all ended well eventually.  So consider this a public service announcement to think about what you would need to have if you happened to be without power and little ones at home during the day - it's a completely different kit from the other ones.  Cheers :)

"And What Does Blue Say?"

Every parent has had that moment when their innocent child says something completely out of left field.  Aside from "stupid", it began with Hunter's "Sometimes bad things happen, and sometimes the zombies eat everyone."  There were times when he would omit the zombies part and I started to realize that he didn't have anything else to say other than "sometimes bad things happen."

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I was pretty proud of myself when I endeavoured to change that and he now says "sometimes bad things, but sometimes good things happen..." which can be followed by anything his ill-equipped inner monologue can possibly come up with.  This is fairly simple apparently because they're parrots at this age. 

Hunter learned that the traffic lights meant certain things based on their colours.  For green, red and yellow, this comes in handy because he associates the colour with the meaning and it's all good.  I was an art major, but not fine art.  When Hunter asks what blue "says", I stutter.  "Well, it means sad" sometimes.  "It also means relax".  "It can be used to mean boy". "It can mean clean (as in water)".  Do you see the predicament?  And Hunter is three.  He has the attention span of a gnat.

buschsystems.com

He's smart because he has three older siblings who have hurried his education along - sometimes to his own detriment (and mine of course).  "Blue" is not an easy colour to describe and being the other kind of art major I was, I can put way too much information into a standard answer.  The point is that since I cannot myself determine what it is exactly that blue means, I have a difficult time telling Hunter.  If I have too many answers, such as in this instance, the question is asked much more frequently - because he's yet to receive information that is useful to him (this is how I understand the problem).

credit: business.financialpost.com

The most common answer I give to this question is "blue means sad" but it's constantly mocked in everyday life.  Recycling containers are blue.  Blue planet.  Blue sky.  None of these things can be associated with "sad".  It's confusing and though his mind is eager for the knowledge, context is not an easy thing to teach.  I guess the point of today's segment is that as parents, we know too much. 

Settling on one answer is by far the simplest thing to do but that's not always possible.   So until the day that Hunter can comprehend the many different things associated with the colour blue, I assume he will continue to ask the question.  Once he's got that down he's likely going to start asking other questions and I will look back wistfully on the days when all he wanted to know was "what does blue say?"

Tooth Fairy Madness

I am ashamed to admit that the tooth fairy has been, upon occasion, a complete dumbass.  She wasn't a dumbass with the first teeth, never those ones, but with the subsequent ones - seriously, how many teeth do they have to lose anyway?! Not that the overabundance of lost teeth should really be the fairy's primary concern.


I only recall the tooth fairy being slightly slow on the uptake once when I was young.  Obviously it was such a traumatic experience that it stayed with me and so I am well aware of what my own children are in for.  I digress.  We were either staying with or living with Nana and I awoke from a fitful sleep only to discover that there had been no midnight exchange of money for the little bud of bone, skin and dried blood.  I lamented this as I walked into the kitchen and was told to head back to the room and check just one more time to be sure. 

Doing this only further destroyed my sense of tooth-worthiness as there was still no monetary reward under the pillow.  Back to the kitchen I went and as I grabbed my dish out of the cupboard, I was shocked to see that the fairy had cunningly left money right in my cereal bowl.  Thinking back on that, I'm pretty sure they (Mom and Nana) let me scoop the money out and poor my cereal and milk right on top of all the germs that had to have been left behind. Yu-Yu-Yummy!

This is not about my own crushed childhood beliefs though and I once said that I liked to make these blogs helpful for others so here it is: What you can say to your children if the tooth fairy turns out to be brain-dead when your children's teeth are falling out like mad: based on, as usual, actual events.

1: "The Tooth Fairy didn't like the way you packaged it."  This is especially helpful once word gets around at your kid's school about the incredibly amazing things she does at other kids' homes. My friend Sara's kids had the best stories.  The Tooth Fairy left fairy dust and a card and all this other stuff that she didn't seem to have at my house, and the tooth had to be left in a container of water.  Since the Fairy was remarkably out of fairy dust and forgot about two or three nights in a row, there was some massively creative story-telling going on.  Finally, she got her shit together and managed to exchange the tooth for some cash. I suck, I know.

2. "I bet she couldn't find it".  Who carries cash nowadays?? It's not like you can prep for a lost tooth! They come to you at 9pm after they should have been asleep for an hour or so and suddenly you're supposed to have change?  This was back in the day when I was at home by myself and Geoff was away working too so there was just no getting out to hit the bank machine.  I probably could have called on Grandma.  Guaranteed they would have kicked the Fairy into action so as not to disappoint the children but I just thought of it now and there's no going back.

3. "Maybe the Tooth Fairy was running low on funds." That gets you out of a missed visit.  "See, she left your tooth, so she must mean to come back for it." It's also a nice segue for the "how much do I get" part.  My nieces and nephew had been receiving bills around this time and when it's brought up at Grandma's Sunday dinner, you could choke. "She leaves me a $20!" And there you are with your mouth hanging open going holy crap Nicky!  Kidding - ish.  (I love you Nicky).  But beware, it happens.  And they do become marginally suspicious if they get five bucks in quarters; keep it simple, they like loonies and toonies or large bills :).

4. "Are you sure?? Maybe you should check again!" This one obviously depends on the layout of your house and whether they have the tooth on them at the time.  Hey, it worked for my Mom and I have miraculously managed it myself in a weird twist of memory fate.  Ethan mentioned that he'd forgotten to check before breakfast and I actually had the money.  I made my way in there and found the offending tooth, left money and also picked out his clothes.  It was magic.

5. Last but not least: "Are you sure it was under your pillow?" Yes, blaming the victim is wrong but sometimes you just have to dig yourself really deep, especially if you have no cash on you. 

And there you have it folks, if you're in a bind and find yourself scrambling at 6:30 am, you can't say I didn't try to help by being the worst parent ever.  The purpose of the Mom Evolution is that you learn from my mistakes.

first photo: imbd.com; second photo: attachedmoms.com; third photo: telegraph.co.uk;

An Evolution With or Without Mutations?

I have too many decisions to make and too many things to look after.  This is hell.  How on earth do stay at home moms do this???  I just got my last pay cheque so I am officially unemployed.  Even though I haven't worked in two weeks, this is it - there are no more cheques coming.  Panic. I'm sure I can do this - I mean, I've been running myself ragged for as long as I can remember but this organizing my family and myself is tough - and they've only been back to school for three days.  I realize it's going to get better (perseverance) but OMG.

Hunter won't nap at the same time I want to nap so I don't know if he's going to be my favourite or not.  This morning when I put him into the car to go to my - frick - that ear, nose and throat doc guy, I said, out loud "Wow - is it hot in here or is it just me?" And I giggled because I actually said it and then Hunter says "no, it's just you" and he was totally my favourite.  Then he threw up in the car and I had my doubts.  He also napped the whole way home after that so he wasn't really aiming for my good books because I was literally forcing myself to stay awake. 

Ethan and Aaron came home and they played and everything was great until it wasn't and they were fighting.  Took away electronic equipment and made them play a game at the table but there was no pleasing them and then there was more fighting.  We ate dinner and told them there was no more electronics until tomorrow and then they went outside and played - all three of the boys - super happy.  WTF?!

I did my rounds, kissed everyone good night and they were all sleepy and cuddled into their beds.  By this time, I had received my second wind and so off I went to find the nearest computer and try to gather my thoughts with a deliciously cold adult beverage; the mere thought of which, I believe, will help me sleep in the very near future.

 So here I sit, all dazed and confused, wondering if the Mom Evolution was perhaps too progressive an idea..  However, I suppose when you think of the term "evolution", the insinuation is that there will be change.  And in the front seat of this incredible roller coaster ride I have comfortably called "my life" where there are incredible inclines and declines and nerve-wracking screams - there is always room for evolving - of one sort or another.

The "Problem Moms"

I have officially accepted a competition with another Mom - who will be the worst nightmare Mom of the school year?  By the way, I don't think either of us relish this claim, it just so happens that I tend to be one of them each year.  Little things like not getting my forms signed and writing notes instead - you just know the teachers are like "It's them - it's always them." 

So, my friend has already begun her year by purchasing the wrong items for the school supplies. I have yet to buy gym shoes.  In actuality I bought gym shoes but the kids loved them and decided to use them as their everyday shoes and that was when I discovered a) Ocean hated her other runners and b) Ethan didn't have any runners.  The kid has worn loafer-type shoes for regular footwear for so long I guess I forgot.  Oh wait, he had runners last year but I guess he doesn't like doing up laces. 

I doubt either of us plan to go out of our way to further complicate our relationships with our child's school but it will be those little things - which I refer to as severe cases of being a dumbass - that make our list for the year.  Stay tuned - I might even tell you her name - if she lets me :)


In other news, my kids went back to school today and it was pretty good - Hunter and I had a pajama day (after we drove their supplies to school and waited impatiently for the kids' bus to arrive).  All was grand until he handed me a water bottle; "This smells like pee" he said.  Um, ew, but I smelled it anyway because WHY would it smell like that? "Ugh" I said disgustedly "it does... why is that?" Hunter was looking at the TV "Because we..." he trailed off.  "Because why Hunter?"  He looked straight into my eyes and said "Because Ethan peed in it." What the devil??? I cannot even begin to describe how many times I said F. F, F, F, F, F, F-ity F.

I sat on this for awhile because it was just after lunch when Hunter informed me and the kids don't get home until after 3.  I had decided that Ocean must have done something so horrid to Ethan and he finally decided to fight back.  Sick, yes.  But he's a boy.  Still, it didn't seem like something Ethan would do.  Anyhow, I took Hunter's word and after school I began my inquisition.

Holding up the bottle, I asked Ethan if he had something to tell me about it.  He looked at it "No, what?  I brought it in already." Well that wasn't true but I stood there.  Ethan didn't crack a grin.  Enter Aaron.  I looked at him, I held the bottle "Aaron?" He cracked right up. "What? Because there was pee in it?" OMG! I mean, I knew somebody had done it but still, to have someone admit it - I went off on sanitary usage (and disposal) of that - and I tried to figure out where he possibly could have gotten the idea.

One possibility? Movies.  One in particular that I love because it's so freaking well done slap stick and I cannot help but laugh and laugh at that scene where the cop takes a big swig from a bottle of what he assumes is beer... Dumb and Dumber. And yes, I have let my children watch this movie.  We watched it last weekend.  I hate myself sometimes.  (Thinking of renaming the Mom Evolution to And the Winner of the Worst Mom of the Year IS...)

The Non-nomination For Mother of the Year Award

Yes, I am one of those Moms who hopes I do lots more right than wrong and that my kids do not end up being useless twits.  Today, that's the least of my worries because I, in one of my most un-intellectually stimulated moments to date, showed Hunter how to use a lighter.  Not down and out "put your finger here and do this" showed him, but he asked what it was and I told him it was a lighter.  He stared at me.  I said, "It makes fire." He stared at me.  I lit it.  His response? "Woah!! Can I try?!" And I was like "I am the biggest dumbass ever."

Now really, this is not the first time he's ever seen a lighter.  Nor is it the first time he's ever asked (Dad) to "make it fire".  However, this is the first time I've seen this response from him and I can't help but wonder when he's going to inadvertently burn our house down - because that's the other thing I saw light up in his eyes...

Okay, so that probably won't happen because we're fairly smart about not leaving lighters and matches around for the kids to play with.  Having almost burned my own house down at the tender age of five, I am well aware of what happens when you leave that stuff out.  I also keenly remember the ass-whooping I got when my own Mom discovered the lit candle under my bed and all the burn marks in the quilt since we'd been playing with it for a bit by the time we were busted.

The Mom Evolution - Appears I jumped the gun on stage 5

After that I was trying to get supper preparations finished, early, so we could go swimming for a bit this afternoon.  Suddenly there was screaming and the ever-anticipated sound "thump, thump, thump", followed by more screaming and crying.  Well Ethan's hands were tied and Aaron proceeded to pull Ethan down the stairs.  "How were you tied up?" I asked after everyone was calm. "Ocean did it!" Enter Ocean "Ethan tied my hands up and then he was like 'Okay! My turn' so I tied his hands!" I'm about to call Aaron out but he's prepped "Ethan threw a shoe at me!" While Hunter interjected here and there with "No, it was Aaron/Ethan/Ocean!"

Have I ever mentioned what the penalty is for pissing me off?  I make them play together.  A sit-down game at the kitchen table until they're nice to each other again.  So now we have to wait for that to finish so we can go swimming.  Well, at least my dinner is mostly prepped and I don't have much else to do other than hang out with Hunter.  Who just came in after that whole mess was sorted and said "So, Mom, what are you doin?" No worries, Hunter, I'm not doing anything that doesn't directly involve you.  Cheers Y'all.

Top Ten things I Love About the Fall

It all starts with back to school, but there's so much more than that!

10: Back To School Shopping - sure it's busy and you spend a small fortune between school supplies and clothes, but it's still kind of fun - reminds me of my own excitement for getting new clothes and supplies :)



pinterest via Jessica Scott

9: No Birthdays! Our family starts having birthdays in January, has a massive hit (with six in February) and then a few in March, a couple in April, one in May and three in June, two more in July and four more, including a biggie (Nana's) in August - Back to school means saving solely for Christmas. (That sounds kind of sucky but it's a good thing, trust me)

8: Fun Fall Occasions: There's Thanksgiving and Halloween, harvest colours - I love the fall!


7:Boots: I also love fall boots and cute fall jackets - I have way too many jackets and I miss them in the summer.

6: New TV to keep you warm on those chilly evenings - I barely watch it but I know it's an exciting time of year for the end of reruns and I do have a couple I'm looking forward to :)


http://fashionistatrends.com/fall-fashion-trends-september/

5: Turning the fireplace on: Also, love this about the fall!

4: Baking - I did some in the summer as well but it's just so hot! In the fall it feels homey!

3: Fall is my favourite time of year - I love the crisp air, the turning leaves - and above all, I have more sweaters than anything else and I prefer fall colours over any other so this is when my inner fashionista can finally shine :)

2: Schedule, Schedule, Schedule! As much as I had looked forward to not having a schedule, I am doubly looking forward to getting that back!

1: "Bouquets of sharpened pencils" You've Got Mail

The kids are getting bouncy, looking forward to seeing their friends they may or may not have been able to spend a little time with over the summer vacation and they are also looking forward to their new classes and new teachers :)

Free-falling Into Bad Food Oblivion

I had to wash Hunter's mouth out with soap.  In addition to the agitating "stupid", he has begun to use the word "a$$hole" - pairing them together like a pro and all but it's just inappropriate.  Aaron probably deserved it just as much since he's the one who taught Hunter to say it.  DAMN - I am so doing that next time Hunter says it - I have a feeling that might be doubly effective!  Anyhow, so between that and the fact that I felt like a walking ball of crap (and no, I didn't drink the whole case of beer yesterday) I said to hell with the "make me feel better diet". 

I had cereal for lunch (sugary stuff that I never eat) and crashed hard afterwards. I napped with Hunter on the couch at 2:30 and felt like absolute garbage when I got up.  I was supposed to make chicken but I didn't feel like it.  I opted for pizza.  I called Geoff because we needed some meat. Then it hit me - I NEED CHIPS! AND POP! I'm SO DONE! Give me salt and caffeine! 

I've had my fill now, after a couple of glasses of caffeine-free root beer (felt like drinking decaf coffee too but I took it) and about three handfuls of cheap and oily but desperately appreciated corn chips.  Now Geoff's being all productive in the garage again (every night this week) and I feel unproductive since I haven't finished sorting the socks. Sorting the SOCKS. Please rock my Friday night a little harder over here! 

On the plus side, we've got the tunes going and Hunter just dropped by to dance around like a stipper in training while singing something about "being smarter than your kids" so I think maybe we should go hang out for a bit before bed and he can teach me some of these shameless moves. I have a feeling that's going to make up for the whole day :) 

More BTS Shopping and Cooking Thrills

Guess what?! I almost finished the back to school shopping today!! I spent WAY too much money only to realize that I was so not even finished!!  This is a happy note though because something grand is in the works.

FIRST: we have about 8 more items to pick up for back to school supplies and that will be completed tomorrow.  WOOHOO! Why on EARTH my daughter needs FIVE one inch binders is so freaking over my head I cannot even begin to fathom it. And my seven year old, for grade two, needs BOTH a zippered binder AND a one inch binder - truly beyond my WILDEST imaginings.  I'm almost one hundred percent positive that my first binder was purchased with utmost care and consideration, when I was in junior high.  Now, it's grade two.  AND THEY NEED MORE THAN ONE! Whatev - that's the way they roll now.

Personally, I would be seriously ecstatic if SOMEONE could explain to me why my grade fiver needs TWENTY duotangs, PLUS his TWO one inch binders, and a two inch binder AND his zipper binder!! Oh wait, don't forget the PLASTIC duotang for math! 25 different things to put stuff in! SERIOUSLY? Are they getting a new one bi-weekly?? Rawr!


My dear friend Brandy went off about this on Facebook recently and I have to tell you, I am a bit of a socialist at heart.  It would be super nice if everyone who could helped everyone else who couldn't and every kid got the same advantages - like having enough school supplies.  Like Brandy said though, it would be HONOURABLE if the school coughed up the real reason for these extraordinary supply lists - donations.  Because let's be honest here - my kid does not need this many items and I know this because he only comes home with his zipper binder and like four used duotangs at the end of the year.  FINI.

Now onto the good news.  For the past two weeks that I have been on my kick of using Gordon Ramsay's Everyday Cooking cookbook, I have noticed some amazing things: my pantry is not sickeningly full of stuff that's not really good for us; my grocery bill has gone down; I am making some incredibly good food AND my recycling bins are NOT overflowing by the end of the week. That is all around good news.

So there I was, posting my dinner pictures, my meal next to the picture out of the book but I can't post the recipes because of copyright laws.  That got me thinking.  I happen to know a chef who has never published a cookbook but has had an extremely successful career.  So I have asked him to make a beginner's guide book of recipes for people who may, like me, be interested in cooking from scratch, but not necessarily a "foodie" who has been into this for a long time.  Let's call it a transitional how-to. 

Super exciting stuff here and I will be adding YET ANOTHER blog to detail this next avenue.  I have essentially asked him for a month's worth of recipes for the newbie, like me, that is an easier transition for the whole family.  So far, my kids have tried everything I've cooked - except Hunter, so there are limits, but everyone else has tried it and we've even found a couple of new favourites! Stay tuned!

Oh My Sweet Wonderful Pre-Teen Daughter

You know those days, when you're completely off and the littlest, teeniest, tiniest things just make you incomprehensibly grumpier?  This was not one of those days.  In fact, not only was I productive today, my kids didn't fight, and Hunter fell asleep by 8:00 - everything was fine. 

Which is why, when Ocean was showing me the new outfit that her Nana just bought for her, and I saw the pants which had cutouts from the ankle up to mid-thigh... and I almost choked, turned to my Mom and said "Are those open? Can you see her skin??" "No" Mom assured me "you could if they were tight but they're not at all." (And if I'd told her that I'd seen a pair of those before, on a girl in my class who my Mom refused to ever let me hang out with she might have thought differently)... I took it well when Ocean said "I'm so wearing them to school" and then punctuated it with a lilting "Deal with it" as she walked away.  Funny thing.  My Mom would have screeched and grounded me on the spot for that kind of remark. However, from her only grand-daughter (and directed at me rather than her) my Mom laughed.   I have every intention of making those things disappear before school starts. Deal with that.

My mind was made up and everything was harmonious once more and the kids played until bed time.  Ocean met me in the hallway stating that she was off to bed - it was 8:45.  We talked for a few minutes and the phone rang - it was 9:00.  "That's (my friend)" she said "and Boom - I'm right." Okay I turned to leave and was headed back to the computer when she called me. "Mom, remember when you said (my friend) might be able to stay over tonight? Well can she?" "Ocean, it's nine o\clock at night" I said "and your Dad will be here in the morning to pick you up - make a plan for Sunday." She complained a little. "Sunday" I said firmly, "make a plan." And I closed the door. 

Within a few minutes I got a text from her. "Thanks Mom, now she hates me." By this time, my completely relaxed attitude was beginning to erode; fast.  "I doubt she hates you because I told you to make a plan. Why didn't we talk about this earlier today?" (I'd forgotten that she'd told me only minutes earlier that she was going to bed) "You said tomorrow or Sunday... I said tomorrow" She was right, I had said exactly that.  Patience waning. I wrote back "Then if it was already a plan, you wouldn't have had to ask but you did, so it wasn't.  Sunday or Monday, those are your options honey." (Kind of reminds you of "deal with it"?) "Whatever" was her reply.  Deep breath.

Ethan showed up shortly after complaining that Ocean knew where his iPod was and told him it would cost five dollars to get her to tell him.  Patience? What the hell is that???  I roar into the kitchen and grumpily reiterate what Ethan had told me and Ocean stares at me... then looks at Aaron... then the table... "Oh," she says smacking her hand against her forehead "I totally blanked; what was the question?" She's laughing, Aaron and Ethan are laughing and I've got a stupid smirk on my face.  And that was that.  My sweet, wonderful pre-teen daughter is relatively harmless... for now.

Helmets and Other Sources of Parental Dictatorship

Geoff was not a happy camper when he came home tonight.  Seems that Aaron and Ethan were outside riding bikes without helmets.  If you read the last post, I mentioned that Geoff was only really unyielding about one thing: safety.  So he was not in a good mood.  This resulted in a special presentation for all of the kids on the importance of wearing a helmet, courtesy of YouTube. 


That was about the coolest thing I've seen technology do for us as parents - backing up what we say with some street credit from people who upload stuff to YouTube.  And even though I always tell the kids to wear helmets and both Geoff and I wear one when we go riding, there was a part of this presentation that I really hadn't spent too much time talking to the kids about - what an injury to a child does to their family and friends.  It was really impressive in that it made the point, very well, that the injury is costly, scary, and difficult to overcome for both the person who was injured and their whole family. 

After they finished watching it, Geoff made the kids think of ways they could be safer while riding a bike/skateboard/scooter and apologize to us for not wearing their helmets.  Tough, yes, but I think the point was adequately made through the video and each of them seemed genuinely upset at what could happen just because they didn't take the time to don a helmet. 

This was all before dinner.  During dinner, Hunter entertained us all with his clowning around and I realized that he was enjoying the attention just a bit too much.  I quieted the others and put on my "mom" hat (because prior to that he'd almost made me choke with laughter at his extremely "on" Hunter-ness).  He calmed down a little and Geoff's mood hadn't really improved. 

After supper he was encouraging the kids to help clean up and someone must have said something because the last thing I heard from the kitchen was "Deirdre, don't make anyone supper tomorrow!" Which I'm sure was leftover grumpiness because he can see the menu on the fridge and he knows we're having fried chicken tomorrow.  Then again, perhaps he saw the "with broccoli bake" and figured it was worth the risk.  He eats his cooked vegetables but only because I told him he has to or the kids won't. My guess is he figures his minimal discomfort is better than years of fighting with the kids.

In any case, he's not my parent and I'm most likely going to ignore him and cook dinner tomorrow.  On a side note, he just stepped in and I asked him about his grumpiness.  Turns out he's oddly suspicious about telling me much while I'm obviously in the middle of blogging.  Huh.  Strange.

Taking Those Deep Breaths

When I had two little babies, that would be Ocean and Ethan, I was excessively worried about "doing it right".  As far as I was concerned, I was pretty messed up from my dealings with an uber dictator Mom (I'm sure she'd like that).  In her defense, she was a single parent who grew up in the late 60's with a very traditional Mom and Dad and two brothers - she was also a middle child.  She embraced the power of women (which I doubt her father approved of) and became a hippie who never really went yuppie.  Which would probably have made for a wicked upbringing except she went all tyrranical with two daughters. Just my opinion.

Anyway, before I had kids, I remember seeing an episode of Oprah who was interviewing a guy who wrote a book called "How to Behave So Your Children Will Too".  Nana had always told me that the reason my Mom and I fought so much is because we were so much alike.  I vowed to respect that my daughter was likely to be like me, and she is, and I try to respect it because it's more important to me that I allow all the kids a chance to have their say, stand up for what they think is right and hearing them out when they disagree with us.  Which means taking some deep breaths once in a while but so far it's nothing with the other ones when compared to Hunter.

Whose kid is he anyway?? Sure I'm kind of particular, slightly perfectionist, yet not OCD or anything.  And Geoff.. well he's an anal safety guy I will admit, but he's not overbearing about much else.  Ethan is the most happy-go-lucky guy I've ever known; Aaron is super excitable but can also be moody, and Hunter... that kid is just off the charts some days.  Sure he's three, but he won't be three forever and I'm kind of worried he might be nutso forever.

Hot Chocolate.  Yes, this is about hot chocolate.  He asked for some hot chocolate he "can blow on".  In the past he has asked for "hot chocolate that isn't hot".  We get it, cool it down.  So I made him hot chocolate - not super hot but like a minute in the kettle which was filled with cold water so it wasn't even close to boiling.  If he doesn't ask for milk and you put milk in, he'll freak, so I didn't.  He asked for marshmallows.  I put some in.  Apparently he meant "on the side".

So for the following ten minutes, he cried, I moved the hot chocolate because he has upon occasion dumped something you didn't get right, and I fought with him to enjoy his hot chocolate.  He wanted the hot chocolate, I gave it back.  He tried to fish the marshmallows out but it was hot and he cried some more.  "Use the spoon!" (that was in the cup) I told him,  He tried that.  He was happy.  (#$&%)

I love my kids, I really do - and I'm hoping that allowing them to have their way sometimes will make them stronger people - I'm not trying to raise doormats here - but you have to do a lot of breathing sometimes.  Not that that's a bad thing entirely - I would say I spend the rest of the time holding my breath when I'm waiting for the inevitable daily fights to break out.  So maybe this is just their way of keeping me alive.  Well that's a better way to put it I guess.