It Started Out Well Enough...

When Hunter bounced out of his room all naked and sword fighting, I really did think it would be a good day.  For the most part it was actually.  Today I tackled Hunter's room and after some initial decluttering I came back in to see that he had ripped some stuffies out of their cubby holes and they were on the floor again.  Then it dawned on me - this is his room and his stuff. So I asked "Hunter, do you want those stuffies in your room?" He looked at them. "No, I really don't."  Lightbulb. "Okay, can you put what you don't want in your room into this bag?" "Sure" he said.  And he did.  His room has that much less stuff in it just because I thought to ask what he wanted. 

Organizational maven I am not, but I'm seriously working on it and I have to say that Aaron and Hunter have both been pretty darned helpful.  Even though I still have to remind them to clean their bowls and bring them from the table, I don't mind reminding them so long as they do it. 

I had a doctor's appointment today and even though I started Hunter's room with every intention of finishing it before I had to go, and I did, I was almost late.  No, I was late, but only by about four minutes.  I went and saw an otolaryngologist.  I am so not kidding about that ... specialization.  I asked the receptionist how to pronounce it and she said "Oh, you know I've only been here for five days but I need to learn that".  Great help.  Anyhow, the O-word can also be summed up with ear, nose and throat doctor.  This doctor gives the opposite of what a gastroenterologist (colonoscopy giver) does (at least you can sort of decipher that one - gastro- enter- ologist).  Bet you can't wait.

photo: emedicine.medscape.com
 

So there I am, in the chair and I've told him all about my issue and he has this thing in his hand that has a rubbery looking tail on it.  The part he's holding looks similar to a Wii remote only it's fatter and there are two buttons but no cross - much bigger than the image I found over there, but the hose thing looks right ish.  Anyhow, the tail is about the length of your arm from the elbow to the tip of your finger.  Nice huh?  So then he tells me that he's going to insert the tail through my nose and down into my throat.  As you can imagine, I'm super excited.

He tells me it doesn't hurt and that the worst case is that my eyes will water and he handed me some tissues.  They were almost completely melded together by the time we finished due to the pressure I exerted while they were in my hand..  So anyhow, there's no anesthetic or anything "We do this to four year olds" he says, like it's supposed to make me feel better thinking of a distraught parent holding down their four year old while the doctor inserts the tail through a little kid's nose.  But I'm a big girl and he'd closed the door so I gripped the arm of the chair and let him stick this thing into my nose.

He was right, it didn't hurt, but I've had more comfortable doctor's visits and I won't tell you what they did then.  So he looks through, takes pictures (because at the bottom of the tail is a camera) and then asks me to say "eeee" and I do that a few times and I notice I am no longer facing forward with my chin in, but have my head against the back of the chair and I'm looking down my right shoulder... it feels SO weird!  And then he says he's done.  He pulls it out and again there's no pain, it's just weird.

Afterwards, he shows me the video.  Nothing better than that, I think, though I can definitely imagine worse internal videos to see.  There's nothing wrong.  That's fabulous.  Hopefully I never have to get that done again.  However, he thinks I may have some acid reflux.  Fine.  "You should avoid coffee, greasy food and spicy food" he tells me.  Well that is like telling me I might not be able to breathe.  Oh, and alcohol as well as "tobacco".  And I thought, well, it's not like I eat tobacco...

So I got home and googled acid reflux to see what foods I should be avoiding. Ready?  Alcohol, fast foods, tomatoes, oranges, coffee, chocolate, pop, beef, cheese, spicy foods, garlic, salt and pepper, butter and two things that do not affect me in any way, mint and candy.

Needless to say I was pretty grumpy after I read that because it's SO MUCH BIGGER than that little list. No Chinese food, no tortillas or burritos, no pasta - because what the hell am I supposed to put on it??  I love spicy and I only recently started using salt because I was apparently deficient last time I got my blood work done.  Butter.  Seriously?? And no chocolate? I don't eat a lot of it but it's such a nice treat!  And of course the coffee - I love my coffee.  So very, very, very, very much.  I'm getting depressed again.

On the possible plus side, once the pills are done, maybe I can go back to drinking coffee.  And eating pasta with Alfredo sauce, which has both cheese and butter in it, because that is like my most favourite meal.   And almost every night, I sit down to watch something on TV with a glass of pop and a bag of chips.  Right before bed.  Okay, so I totally get how I could have developed this.

I've always said that if I ever needed to make lifestyle changes I would be totally hooped and here it is.  For the next month I'm supposed to avoid these foods.  I can make no promises that I will be able to deliver anything inspirational until I can have coffee.  This is only a marginally heartfelt apology right now because I'm mad again; Geoff has pop. 

Some Days

My sister took Aaron to a movie today, a belated birthday gift. She took him to lunch, he chose the movie, he changed his mind, she acquiesced, everything should have gone well.  Scratch that - everything did go well.  But my sister had told him that if the movie finished early enough that they would go back to her place and play some video games.  If you've been reading these regularly or happen to know us personally, you probably know what's coming; Aaron would rather have played video games at my sister's than anything else.

Not that he didn't enjoy himself, because he did.  What he took no concern in is the possibility that there might not be time to do both.  And he was miffed.  Not that you would have noticed until later.  We met up at Mom's place because my Aunt and Uncle were back for a night and we all had dinner there.  He was alright, seemed a bit tired, but otherwise fine.  After dinner my sister and her husband (just had to add emphasis because it's the first time I really could) left.  That's when it all went downhill.

Aaron didn't come to me with it of course because I have never been good at sympathizing with the loss of video game time.  He went to Geoff.  Now I'm not sure what started it or kept it going, but Aaron was in a super bad mood by the time we were ready to leave.  We packed up Hunter, and I do mean Hunter, not his things, and headed for the car.  Aaron dawdled and hid and was just being difficult. 

Geoff took Aaron in his car and I had no real idea until we got home (to our still tidy house!) what the problem was.  But I began to remember my conversation with my sister. Geoff drove up, he came in, I already had Hunter in the house - no Aaron.  Geoff brought the lawn chairs into the garage and asked if Aaron had come in.  No, he hadn't.  So we watched covertly while Aaron dawdled on the driveway... slowly nearing the front door.  Geoff went out.  Aaron ran away.   Geoff came back in.  "Man, he's stubborn! He's just like me!" "Uh-huh" I said as I walked by.  He is.

Then Aaron came up to the door, slowly turned the knob and peeked in.  He saw me first and I saw his smile but he held his head down and went into the garage.  I turned to Geoff and said "The light isn't on in there" and we waited.  Not quite a minute later the door opened and a hand came out against the wall, found the switch and flicked it on.  He stood with the door open so I was quiet.  Then it shut.  "He turned it on" I told Geoff.   And we waited.

Eventually he came in and made his way upstairs.  Geoff and I were both in the living room and Aaron flopped down on the ottoman and sighed.  I went to the kitchen.  Geoff was quiet.  Then Aaron asked what Geoff was doing.  And things were okay for a little bit.  I came out to write.  I thought I heard Geoff saying something in a frustrated tone and when he joined me I asked if they were scrapping. "Oh yeah" he grumbled.  "About what?" I asked, just to be sure; "Frickin' video games".

Now, once again, I'm faced with this: if he wanted to play the piano all the time would I be holding out?  Of course not - but maybe, depends on what that sounded like I guess.   It's not like he doesn't have any games.  He doesn't have the one that my sister has though.  Should she have spent the afternoon playing video games with him instead?  I have to wonder if that was like our idea of a "treat" being Chucky Cheese and the kids having way more fun at the park. 

At first he was all excited about the movie but once she mentioned the video game that he doesn't get to play all that often... well maybe they should have changed their plans.  He probably would have had a completely enjoyable afternoon.  Not that either of us thought of that.  I guess I will have to bring him out there one rainy day (because that's the only time he's allowed to play them during the summer) and let them play.  So we can both make up for it.  Yeesh.  And I'm going to go have a talk with my son and make sure he knows that Auntie Errin would have played games with him if she had known that's what he wanted to do.  Because that will make him feel better.

"Mom, can you teach me how to pick a lock?"

So obviously, when Aaron, who is seven, asked me this question, my first response was "Why do you want to know that?" and the answer... well, he said he wanted to know how to pick the lock in case he was ever locked out of the house.  So that's not so bad.  But he really wanted to know.  "Can you use a knife?" "No." "How about a pencil?" "No." Then again, I'm not MacGyver - maybe you can pick locks with both of those things.

I told him there are special tools for that.  He wanted to know where to get them.  "You can't just go out and buy them, they're for locksmiths, people who actually pick locks for a living." Well this admission got him interested.  "That's a job?" "Yes." "And they get to have the special tools?" "Yes." "Well what do they look like?" Holy crap. 

So I let him try it with a knife just so he could see that it wouldn't work.  Now I'm not especially worried that I'm assisting a future thief here, but at the same time, I encourage them to try to see how things work, with my supervision, and I wanted him to see why a knife wouldn't work (and save my locks from irreparable damage).  Again, at least I don't think it would work.  Geoff would have said I was giving him too much information.

Geoff gets me with that all the time.  Like when I told Ocean and Ethan how meth was made.  Not that I know this from personal experience, just memories from the news.  Geoff just sort of sat there with this look on his face that said "Really? You're telling the kids what meth is made out of?"  I saw no issue with that.  Who wants to take/smoke/inject ... sorry, I have no idea how people do meth, but who wants to take ammonia?  My kids don't want to take ammonia, so that's all good.

When I told Geoff later about Aaron's interest in the lock picking and why he told me wanted to know, Geoff says "Or he wants to pick the lock of the cupboard where the PS3 games are hidden." Ah.  Well that sounds pretty likely.  I didn't tell Geoff that I let Aaron try to pick a lock with a knife.  I'm not really sure if I've numbed the curiosity or if he will ask me to help him try to pick a lock with something else.  I like to think I'm the first person he'll ask when he wants to try again.  If he does ask, I won't tell him that his Dad has a theory about why he wants to know.  And I'll let him use a pencil.

No Mom, I Want to Stay at Grandma's!

Geoff and I attended another wedding celebration this weekend and Grandma, Geoff's mom, had the kids (my parents are the Nanas).  If you have a small child/children then you know how it is.  When you want to go have some adult time, your first call is to the people who love your children as much as you do - the grandparents.  Not only can you be fully assured that your children will be completely taken care of, safe and happy, but their rates cannot be beat.  It is an all-around win.

This morning, when I made my way upstairs to enjoy a wonderful pancake breakfast (another top notch benefit of being at Grandma's) I met Hunter first and offered him a smile and a "good morning".  The reply was enthusiastic, but not especially welcoming; "No Mom, I want to stay at Grandma's!" Seems the mere sight of me (but not Geoff, who was sitting right there) brought the realization that we would have to leave Grandma's house today.  Well happy to see you too little man!

I sat down at the table and dished my plate.  Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, pancakes and, oh so thankfully, coffee.  Aaron poked his head around the corner and then pulled back again.  "Good morning Aaron" I tried with the next one.  "I'm waiting for Grandma" came his reply.  Oh for two I thought as I dug into my now comfort food/stress reduction breakfast. I did get my hug afterwards, but it was the initial reaction that got me. It must be said here that this delay in the morning hug only comes from these two - Ocean and Ethan greet me with a morning hug no matter where we are, first thing in the morning.  I have taken the following to heart, thanks to my sister, Errin.

I was talking with Errin one day about the difference between the first two, who only really had me for the first two to three years of their lives, and the second two who, due to geographic differences, had access to extended family from birth. Errin was telling me that the best way to bond with animals (that's her only experience yet) is to get only one at a time so they have only one "master".  Yes, I'm about to relate this to kids.

Not having been the only person in the lives of the last two, I have had difficulty adjusting to the fact that they have other people to go to.  Yeah, it basically sucks.  Even tonight, when Hunter was having his bath, he called me but Geoff followed and poked his head in the door as well. "Are you ready to get out?" I asked Hunter.  He sat there with his head down. Geoff walked away and Hunter looked up again "I just want Dad" he says.  Fine.  I turned around and told Geoff to come back and went back to my book. To me, this isn't normal - because my first two always want me!

Sure I think it's great that Aaron and Hunter have an absolute connection to Grandma and their Dad. I love how they're super excited when Dad gets home.  I love how their faces light up when we say we're heading to Grandma's house.  I love the fact that Geoff and I can have a night out and the kids could not care less that we're gone (read: no tantrums, no crying = no guilt). But I'd love it if they were more thrilled when we got back. 

And yes, I understand that there are marked differences with being at Grandma's house and being home.  They absolutely get their way a whole more with Grandma, and Grandma always has the most fantastic treats on hand.  That's what Grandmas are supposed to do.  Being a little Nana's girl myself, I remember it well.  I just had it so good with Ocean and Ethan minus the fact that I didn't take my first adult only vacation away from them until they were 8 and 7... and the fact that they all love to see Grandma is a great thing.  I just want my morning hugs.  Without complaint. But Aaron just came in and said "Mom, I want to learn how to pick a lock" so I've got other things to attend to now.

Parent Birthdays

Today is my mom's birthday and yesterday was my dad's for that matter.  What on earth do you get parents for their birthdays?  And mom has a dentist appointment this morning anyway so how can you top that?   I usually find it difficult to come up with something unless mom has specifically said that there is something she's interested in.  She's generally difficult too because if there's something she wants, chances are she already purchased/did it.  She's just like that.

So each year when her birthday comes around, I'm often left wondering what on earth to do.  One year I happened to be sans kids because I had a work engagement and I took her and Nana out for dinner.  It was an extremely special evening because we were able to sit and enjoy an entire meal at our own pace.  Actually I think that was Nana's birthday but don't even get me started on the grandparent birthdays.

My sister is taking care of birthday dinner this year because we have a wedding to go to so we won't be here anyway.  We have plans to get together Sunday night at my sister's for a big family dinner. Not that I don't think she enjoys this as well, but I'm still unsure of what to bring.  She's not past the point of presents by any means, but she also doesn't have space for anything.

Mom loves antiques.  One year I bought her a spinning wheel, which she loved.  Another year I had picked up something nice, handmade sweater I think, and then I saw a great big wall hanging of "The Timeless Art of Seduction" I absolutely had to pick up.  I made a big production out of the presentation of this one too.  Mom had thought it was going to be a beautiful painting.  They almost peed themselves after the unveiling.  It was perfect.  That gift hung in her main bathroom for years until Nana finally "got sick of seeing it" and made her take it down. 

She (Mom, not always Nana) has a pretty good sense of humour so you can get away with that.  My sister recently presented her with two beautifully framed photos she had taken in Iceland.  One was of my sister and her fiancé and the other was of my sister, bare arsed, pointing to something in the Icelandic distance.  I wish I'd seen the presentation of that one.  Like I said, you can get away with stuff like that for my mom.

So this year, not unlike any other, I'm still trying to think of what to get for her.  Bare arses are out since she already got one of those.  Not that I would have thought of it honestly - that's been my sister's thing since she was much younger.  Mooning our mom that is.  I just made her crazy.  On the plus side I've kind of stopped doing that so that's a present in itself.  Yes, I'll probably write her something nice detailing how I no longer make her crazy.  And I'll add a gift certificate for new jeans; to make up for reminding her of how I used to make her crazy :)  

Speed Demon

It was about 3:00 am on a Sunday morning and there I was, at the second last set of lights heading out of the city where the main drag turned into the secondary highway that would take me home.  I had been out with some friends, clubbing, and no, I had not drank alcohol.  That is, I had not had a drink the entire night except for one miniature glass of twenty-five cent draft at last call.  Truly, this was all.

I was not alone at this red light.  To my right, there was a little red four door sedan.  It was a Dodge Neon and this was a year when these vehicles were new and they were everywhere.  I drove a '78 VW Rabbit and I could make it go, off the line at least.  For some strange reason, I had a grudge against the Neons and I had every intention of shaming this vehicle once the light turned green.

As soon as the light changed we were off and I could see by the position of his headlights that I was indeed ahead of the Neon.  Then some other lights drew my attention; red and blue ones.  I was concerned to say the least and what ensued after could have relieved me from any consequence completely; the Neon looked like it was going to make a run for it.

I pulled to the right and watched for the next few minutes.  There were two sets red and blue lights, two police cars, and the Neon headed straight into the final intersection where the lighting was very good.  One police car followed him and the other had pulled off ahead of me but I could tell he was interested in the Neon.  The Neon made an attempt to go left but too late for the actual turn.   He was going slow enough that there was no tragic accident, but he backed up and tried to turn into the approach.  I watched all of this with a kind of numb fascination.  I was shocked at what I was seeing, but I really wanted the Neon to take off as I was positive that if he did so, the second officer would follow and I would likely be free to go.  

The Neon stopped however and after the driver was secured by the first officer, the second officer came back to my vehicle.  He asked for my license and registration and asked me to come to his car.  I had made the decision at that very moment to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but.  I had had one drink.  What if that made me impaired?  I was nineteen and I'd only had my license for four months.  We didn't have the probationary thing then so I wasn't breaking any rules around that.

He asked if I knew the other driver and I replied that I did not. He let me into the back of the cruiser.  Sitting in the back of the police car, I was going through my story, trying to prepare for the questions he would ask. The officer returned.

Officer: Do you know why I pulled you over?
Me, nodding: Yes sir, because I was racing.
He gave me a look in the rearview mirror like I was being impertinent.
Officer: Because you were speeding.
I nodded, of course I was.
Officer: Do you know what the speed limit is here?
Of course I did. Me: Yes sir, it's sixty.
Officer: Do you know how fast you were going?
Me: No
Officer gives me another rearview mirror look.
Me: No, I don't, I could only see peripherally that I was beating him, I wasn't paying attention to my speed.
Officer: You were doing 100.
I nod again, sure, that seems about right.
Officer: Do you have a good job?
Me, suddenly worried: No. I work at the mall.
Silence
Officer, referring to the other vehicle: So you don't know him?
Me: No.
Officer, grumpily: So why were you playing around?
Me, shrugging: I don't like Neons, I wanted to beat him off the line.
Officer, seemingly exasperated: The reason I pulled you over is because when you took off at the lights he almost hit you! 
Me, completely shocked: Oh! I didn't know that!
Silence
Officer: You're going home?
Me: Yes
Officer: Well get on with it then.
And with that he got out of the vehicle, opened my door and handed back my license and registration.
Officer, looking slightly tired: The next time you're driving around at this time of night, just let them pass you.
I know my back went up but understanding his reasoning I responded with a resigned "Okay."
Relieved and still pretty shaky, I returned to my car and drove home. It would not be last time I was stopped by far, but it was a special first encounter.

I was reminded of this story when I opened up a letter from another town that was addressed to Geoff.  Turns out that "on or about the 16th of July, 2013" my truck was photographed doing 117 in an 80 zone.  Apparently this ticket is worth $236.00.  I think I have to pay that.  However, so far as I know, I happen to be available on the 23rd of September so I might take a trip in and see if I can argue that the computer is way off.  I certainly don't recall doing that speed.  That would be silly.

Disclaimer: I've only been caught speeding with a child in the car on one occasion because I generally don't speed with them, but that's a whole other story in itself.  And I won that one.

Disorganization Central

Well, after a busy day of tidying and reorganizing my closet (which was only necessary because my clothes were everywhere BUT) I: missed a doctor's appointment (mine) and fed the kids jam sandwiches because it was 5:30 and they were hungry and I had yet to start dinner.  Whoops.  So, since I have been thinking of this for awhile and in desperate need (and remembered there is a solution), I had to go back to square one. FlyLady.

FlyLady (www.flylady.net) is an email reminder to do your chores.  Not kidding.  I used this once before because I was so darned disorganized and it got me into shape with my cleaning habits without me even noticing.  Personal Testimonial: One night I was cleaning up and bustling away and I looked around and it was all done. I turned to Geoff and thanked him for helping.  He said "I didn't do anything." Not my proudest moment with him, but I was like WOW - I did it?  I set about doing it and it actually was completely finished?? Tidying up??? HURRAY!!! 

Well, even with this most truly ecstatic moment behind me, I somehow got the idea that I was all done with FlyLady and I stopped using it.  Over the past year or so, with the bigger house and Hunter too since I last used it, I've thought about FlyLady.  Well, today I am back on.  I have received my welcome letter and tomorrow I will wake up with the reminder to drink my water.  That is the only habit I actually kept but I'm also looking forward to tomorrow's challenge. 

Maybe it will be the bathroom, or the pantry.  Perhaps the entry way.  The thing is that it will only be one of them.  That and a fifteen minute de-clutter of something that really only requires fifteen minutes - set the timer and stop when it goes off.  What I always used to notice though is that I didn't stop until I was ready.  Which is probably how everything became so easy.  Point is, if I only want to do it bit by bit, or if I happen to have other things to do, I can stop.

I am excited.  Woohoo! FlyLady to the rescue!  And perfect timing too because my Aunt and Uncle will be back here next week and this time, I would like to invite them over to my house without the "OMG how am I ever going to tidy up before they get here?!"  Ah, that is a feeling of relief. Welcome back into my life, FlyLady.

What Is It I Do, Exactly?

That question was asked by Meg Ryan as Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail when she is afraid that her business, a bookstore, may be forced to close after a Fox Books Superstore opens nearby.  Once the inevitable closing takes place, Kathleen takes some sick days and some Ny-Quil like substance before she finally begins to consider what she will now do with her life.  A chapter has ended and another must begin.

So many stages of our lives are like this.  We are children then teens, then adults.  We are single, we are together, we are pregnant.  We have a baby, we have a toddler, we have a small child (possibly this stage gets stuck on repeat).  And then what?  We sit back and watch them grow?  Participating in their life moments until they determine the time is right for them to continue on their own? 

I only knew one absolute stay-at-home mom when I was growing up.  I'm sure she had many things to do but I remember my girlfriend telling me that her mom vacuumed every day.  I thought "Wow, that would suck!"  Perhaps there is some irony in the fact that I have to do this as well, but I have a toddler; my girlfriend was an only child and we were in our tweens at least.

I absolutely, never, ever, wanted to be a stay-at-home mom.  I did it when Ocean and Ethan were little; changing diapers, feeding, playing, cleaning... I was excited to go back to work.  I loved working even when I wasn't exceptionally thrilled with my job.  I felt like I did a good job.  Parenting, for me, was consistently full of self-doubt and over-thinking.  I could have driven myself mad. 

Then I had Aaron and I became a stay-at-home mom again.  This time it wasn't so bad.  I could take Ocean and Ethan to playschool.  Then I could take them to school.  I also had some stay-at-home mom friends so there was coffee and play-dates.  That became kind of boring.  Then I decided I would go back to school.  The hours were pretty good and I still worked, during school hours, so it was great. 

Now I've graduated and I'm a stay-at-home mom again.  For the past four years I have been working for myself essentially.  I am affiliated with and accountable to an office and supervisors and management, but I accept jobs that I can take and work when I am able.  I don't have the slightest clue how I would deal with an office job or the like.  And I no longer want to. 

I am at a stage where one chapter (school, and my job at the end of August here) has ended and another must begin.  Even though I am absolutely positive that I want to be home much more than a full-time gig will allow, I'm still not interested in the yucky parts of staying at home (read: laundry, dishes, organizing, cleaning etc.).  Haha, I want to be a Dad!  Kidding, though I could use his excellent organizational abilities.  Right now though, I sure don't envy Geoff.  He told me back in the day "I don't care how long school takes just so long as you can find a job after." Yes.  Well...

I love to write.  I want to write.  I'm scared of the fact that my book may take three years to write.  Actually, anything more than three months is too long; Student Aid repayment is looming... I have a business name, a business plan and a website that is under construction.  So far the expense has been minimal but there are expenses I should maybe be incurring and just haven't yet because of the whole expense thing requiring income to pay them with.   

Maybe I will have to get a job ("maybe" haha, like it's optional or something!).  Maybe it won't take as long as I think to finish my first draft and if a publisher likes it, maybe they will give me an advance on my advance.  I'm not sure how that works.  I guarantee I will find out - eventually.  Even I realize that, yet again, I have a lot on my plate.  Maybe I was born to be in the circus.  I still have one of the best damn juggling acts around [and I've never dropped a kid ;)] So why not throw in some flaming batons?  This seems completely reasonable to me because this is what I do, exactly.

(picture credit; ahem; www.theworstmother.com )

Hunter the Welcoming Committee

Does it ever make you wonder how all of your children can be so different?  I realize I'm not the norm if have to say "all" when referring to my offspring, but still.  Ocean was a shy child, Ethan was more outgoing in comparison and Aaron took after Ocean in cautiousness. Hunter? Well that kid seems to realize that saying "hi" to anyone often gets him the attention he is looking for. 

Hunter was waiting for Ocean to take him on a walk and a lady pulling a couple of little ones in a wagon passed by across the street.  Upon seeing her, Hunter stood up and yelled "Hi there!" She said "Hi" back and Hunter turned to me and said, "I liked seeing those kids."  He does this all the time.  We came back from somewhere one morning and saw a group of kids playing a few doors down.  As we parked Hunter piped up "I'm going to go say hi to those kids." And he did.  I followed along as well because that's just smart, and I met one of my neighbours.

I'm not especially shy but with a kid like Hunter, you meet everyone and anyone because he's interested in meeting them.  Sometimes people don't respond and Hunter will just look at me with surprise and say "They didn't say hi!" I think it's kind of cool that he expects a response but especially that a lack of one doesn't stop him from chatting up the next person.  And although Hunter has no issues chatting up kids, he is especially engaging with adults which is both a blessing and a curse.

I am generally not opposed to chatting with strangers but sometimes I'm just not in the mood to be congenial.  Kids have lightning quick emotions whereas it takes me more than a second to move from grumpy to super happy (because I'm not nearly as prone to ADD as they are).  After I've had a tough morning cleaning up spills and refolding laundry that was already folded the night before and trying to get breakfast cleaned up and everyone is bounding off the walls because they need some outside time, I am not always as welcoming to the "oh, what a sweetheart" because I'd love to reply with some smartass remark like "Yeah? He's yours" and walk away.

Phew.  Even that made me feel much better.  I'll never give him to a total stranger and I will always play at the park because it feels good to play, even when I don't much feel like it.  I'm also glad he's not a brooding kid and that he likes to talk to people.  Some days though, I find it hard to take the compliments and the smiles when I would rather be at home locked away in a closet.  I think the following sums it up completely: "Insanity is hereditary; you get it from your kids."

 

It's Really About the Shoes

I'm a day behind in my head as well as my blog, even though I posted yesterday.  In an attempt to get both of these back on track, I'm hoping it will help if I make today's segment "the rest of the story". 

I'm not in great shape.  This is usually difficult for people to understand because I'm thin.  Not skinny, mind you, just thin.  It's all in my genes.  My muscles hurt fairly regularly because I'm not in great shape.  Last Thursday, I decided I needed to get this whole exercise thing on the go. I did a session of Belly Dance and about a half hour of pilates. With that being said, I was in terrible pain the whole weekend at my sister's wedding event.

On Sunday morning, the day after the wedding, I woke up feeling especially ill.  At one point I asked my mom if I actually smelled of alcohol because that's all I could smell.  As it turned out, I did not but that sure didn't help the smell go away.  Everything takes longer when you feel like that.  It doesn't help if you have more to do either.  Hunter had stayed with his other Grandma just because there was to be too much of a demand on everyone else if he came with us asI was in the wedding party. So on our way home from Golden, we had to meet Grandma halfway (thankfully it was halfway) between our house and hers which added on an additional two hours to our trip (could have been four). 

By the time we got home, the kids were pretty desperate to get out of the car and I was in dire need of sleep.  I managed to get everyone down at a semi-reasonable time and managed to sleep.  I woke up on Monday still fuzzy, but definitely better.  I tidied up the kitchen, made coffee, and headed to my spot to turn on the computer.  Something nudged at the back of my mind then.  Something, what was it? It was 8:52 am.  CRAP I have to work at 10:00!!

I scrambled into the house, started waking up kids, called Nanas to remind them about the impending drop-off and hopped into the shower.  I grabbed bags of cereal and tried to ensure they were all dressed (Ethan forgot shoes - who forgets shoes???) I dropped them off without taking a moment to say hi and called my contact - I was going to be at least ten minutes late.  Turns out that was no problem, I only had to be there for 10:30.  Fine, at least she wasn't upset and now I didn't have to worry about the whole speeding thing. 

I arrived, I presented, I kicked ass.  I'm old hat.  The contact and I talked about the August date and I left.  It's a secure building and it was lunch time.  I got to my car and fiddled for my sunglasses.  Nope.  I called the contact back but they were on lunch and I needed them to actually come down to get me.  I wasn't about to sit in my car for the next hour and wait for them to get the message so I said I would pick them up in August.  Yay.  Then I pulled out and realized I didn't have my coffee either.  Nice.  It's my U of C mug too.  I look forward to having that again in August.

I headed back to Nanas house and my Aunt and Uncle were just having lunch before they headed further east.  I tried to have a conversation with them but Mom was on the hunt for one of Hunter's shoes.  He wore mismatched ones anyway because we couldn't find one of either pair before we left the house.  Now he'd lost another.  I guess.  Geoff just bought him a new pair as well, which we couldn't find at all.  When we looked later though, I could only find one.  WHO DOES THAT?!  He has like eight pairs of shoes and I can't find ONE match??? GAH!

I had to get the kids out of the house because they were grumpy from being woken up and could have used a nap.  Not that they had a nap.  They played outside, there was some bike-riding and a park trip. Although Hunter couldn't make the park trip as this was when we discovered that we could only find one shoe out of his newest pair.  We went to sleep and woke up.  Well, I did anyway.  The kids are still having some difficulty with the morning thing. 

On the up side, Geoff just informed me that he won a framed Lanny McDonald single and 1989 group photo of the Calgary Flames Stanley Cup win in a silent auction.  Great.  Cannot wait to tell him that Hunter also needs more shoes.

Post-Wedding Tribute

I would have posted this yesterday had I not been enduring a crazy post-wedding hangover fueled by a lack of sleep and having to drive for six horribly long hours.  Such a combination seemed entirely incompatible with writing, even once I made it home. 

My sister's wedding at the Hillside Resort in Golden, B.C. was a success, of course, with only a very few minor hiccups.  I eloped when I got married so there was no fanfare, little planning and zero stress.  My sister planned an amazing getaway and reception that was beautiful in its apparent simplicity.  I say apparent because if you've done this already, you know there's a lot more to it. 

Originally, she was going to have no children in attendance.  She changed her mind once they realized there would actually be room for them. The bridal party met up at 8:00am for breakfast and then we headed upstairs to begin getting our hair and make-up done. We busied ourselves while others were at the chairs and took our turns when they were empty.  It was quite the procession.  As the moment neared, we got our pictures taken as we helped the bride into her dress, which took three of us simply because we had to help get it over her hair.  She pinned the corsages on Mom and Nana.

On the walk to the ceremony location they had put together some memory boards.  The first was my sister from baby to young woman, the second was her husband to be.  The third was from 2007 when they first began dating and detailed the timeline of what they had done each year until this one, ending Saturday, their wedding day.  It was a thoughtful and wonderful thing to see especially for those who had not been part of each year in between. 

Ethan was walking Nana down the aisle and Ocean and another niece were taking care of the signing table and guest pictures.  Aaron was super tired and had difficulty waiting for the hour to arrive. He and another nephew of hers were ring bearers.  They dressed up in bear costumes.  Get it?



 Even though we'd gone through the rehearsal, the boys forgot the direction they would be heading and when we corrected them during the ceremony, it almost looked like they were going to keep walking, in the other direction.  We got them back and everything else went as planned. 

My mom walked my sister down the hill and along the path.  Her husband to be looked at her with such longing as they made their way it brought tears to my eyes.  Mom was going to take a spot up front with us as she apparently forgot her rehearsal as well, but we managed to get her seated and the ceremony could begin.

They managed their vows without incident though my sister rushed through the presentation of the ring.  She was nervous in front of the crowd to say the least.  We hadn't set up a designated signing table either so they each signed before they could walk away and I actually decided that I liked that idea better.  When they took each other's hand, they did it fully and completely as husband and wife.  She relaxed immediately after and he did as well.  It was done, just like that. 

Of course, the day was busy from there with pictures and readying of the reception location, which was a beautifully decorated quanset on the furthest end of the resort.  The tables were set, the desserts were ready, the caterers had arrived to set up the buffet.  The bar was fully stocked and the bartenders were preparing their stations.  Clockwork.

We all walked in and the bride and groom held their first dance before dinner.  We were treated to a mouth-watering choice of salmon, chicken and prime rib and I had a little of everything.  The service was immaculate - not once did the head table run out of water, which was a very good thing.  She incorporated a multiple choice guessing game for the other tables to see which would go up after us and that made the line move efficiently while giving the guests something to do while they waited.  They had also left a scratch ticket at each adult setting to while away the time.

Speeches began shortly after we had finished eating and they were each enjoyable.  First the maid of honour, then the groomsman, and the mothers from each family to officially welcome the newest member to the family.  The bar was open and we cleared some space for dancing.  Outside, we had a fire going and family members gathered in this space or that to catch up and just relax in one another's company.  The big day had come and everything was as it should have been - perfect.

Kid Time and Adult Time

Right now, I'm sitting in a hot tub (feet only, I don't do bathing suits) and Ocean, Ethan and Aaron are with me. So are five other adults, none of whom have children or are related to us.  

This is not a situation I usually put myself in.  Normally I have kid time and adult time and I do not mix them because I find I can't.  I'm either Mom or I'm just me - I haven't had much practice being both.  Not that I expect there's a huge difference, this actually stems from responsibility. 

If it's only me I have to be responsible for, I'm much more relaxed.  I'm not worried about what everyone else is saying or what (within reason) my children are doing.  I find social situations stressful with them because I worry about their manners and what they're hearing and seeing and saying.... But tonight is proving to be reasonably fine.

I know people who have brought their children into adult environments and it never sat well with me. Maybe it's the type of situation. So far as I can tell, we haven't really alienated anyone.  The kids have only needed a few reminders to take others' needs into consideration.  Maybe the time is right.

They are older now, and maybe they are ready to see what their behaviour should be, and the beat way to learn is often by doing.  It's a learning experience, and as usual, for them as well as me.

Two Days Until I Have a Mrsister

That is a Mrs. Sister.  My sister is getting married in two days and it has been a long time coming.  Her friends began referring to her engagement as separate from other people's engagements.  "Are you going to have a normal engagement period or a C/E engagement?" It really hasn't been that long - to me anyway, but I'm still married, so that's why nothing seems that long to me.

They went to high school together but hung out in different crowds.  They knew who the other was but that was all.  They found out that they had both toured Australia at the same time, though they did not run into each other.  One day a mutual friend thought they should meet.  And the rest is truly history. 

My sister is six years younger than I am and I moved out when she was 12.  I remember tying her up one day after school because she was getting on my nerves.  She used to answer our private line and when the person on the other line (I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and say it was dependent on the friend) would ask if I was there, she would say "Yes" and hang up the phone. 

Our Uncle Jack called her "Ayatollah Gretzky".  He and my mom used to joke that when she got mad she would jump six feet in the air.  She was spirited to say the least.  She still is, and I wouldn't want to be on her bad side, but I think she's found other outlets. 

She's travelled the world.  Aside from Australia, she's spent time in the U.K., Ireland, Spain, travelled across Canada, Mexico, various states, South America and Antarctica.  She makes friends wherever she goes and keeps them.  She is amazing.

And soon, very soon, they are going to start trying for children.  I cannot wait.  She tells me about how her friends bring their kids to social events and they are so very well behaved and they sleep anywhere.  She called once and said "We're going for dinner, if you want to come." Hey that sounds fun, I think, so I ask "When?" "Well, now" was the reply.  Oh yes, I cannot wait. 

The best thing, I think, is being a sideliner in this sort of thing.  She once thought my little Ocean was kind of mouthy.  And she is; she is me.  My sister will have at least a part of herself.  Which is only fair because her namesake, my Aaron, is her too.  So if I got lucky enough to have two of her in my life, she should be graced with at least one.  To my sister; my little sister whom I love, congratulations on your next big step in life.  I seriously cannot wait.

Project Number Two: Pitting the Children Against One Another

It sounds bad, but I hope it won't be.  My kids like money.  They earn their allowances and they like to make more money however they can.  They've been slipping a little over the summer though.  I guess since Aaron is currently working on his behaviours for his other project, I didn't really notice this while Ocean and Ethan were gone.  But they're back and I notice now.   I have to go to the dollar store and pick up three "banks" with locks.  I have a feeling this will work better if they can "see" their money and also see it moving between banks - because it will.

So, project number two is under way.  Here are the rules:

1. Each child will start out with $40 in their "bank".
2. Whenever one child notices that another child has neglected to:
• remove dishes from the table
• tidy up toys/games/books from common area
• take laundry down and put away
• do something else that was asked of them
• is disrespectful
• The observant child gets $1 from the offending child's bank

There is something for everyone in here. Ethan is often forgetful but he is the least likely to bug the crap out of the others so his plus and minus will probably keep him in the game. Aaron is not very forgetful about most things but he's a little bug.  Little things like turning off the TV while someone else is watching it if they won't turn the channel or something like that.  Ocean can probably whip the other two in staying tidy but she can be a horrible bug, which I've told her can be disrespectful to others if they are taking it badly.  Again, it should work out fairly even. 

All three of them are super excited about the chance to earn a possible $120.  I'm even feeling just a little guilty about the fact that the odds are not in anyone's favour to actually do so.  The last one will be the best to keep everyone even (which is why it's there).   At the end of the day, I've offered to give them $120.  Why?

While each of them have certain strengths it is my never-ending hope that they will manage to curb their weaknesses.  What do I get out of it?  To begin with, they're offered an allowance and it costs the same except I get little return because the system is flawed.  Some of them consider earning an allowance to be optional.  Second, I get at least one extra set of eyes.  They will each have to be proactive with this because getting caught by one of the others, and having to "give" them money will not sit well with anyone.  Lastly, because I fully expect them to realize that the possibility of earning way more than they would earn in allowance is never really going to happen because it's rigged... well, maybe I'll manage to remove their urge to gamble later in life too.  Two birds.

When Did I Become Mary Friggin' Poppins???

Oh right, four kids.  I saw a post on Facebook yesterday (thanks, Rick H.) entitled "Age Appropriate Chores" beginning at age 2.  At first I giggled.  Then I remembered that I was so on top of that with Ocean and Ethan.  "Help, help, help. You help Mommy and Mommy helps you." Seriously, I used to say that stuff.

Then we graduated to Barney's "Clean Up" song.  Hunter moves his little butt when we sing that (thanks, Kerri).    But wait.. someone's missing... oh, no, Aaron helps too but mostly with a promise of reward (thanks, Dad).  I wanted some help today, so I had to get creative.

 Someone keeps peeing on the seat of the main bathroom.  I told the boys they would be cleaning the bathroom today because of it and an argument ensued. 

Aaron: "It's Ethan!"
Ethan: "It's you Aaron! I sit down when I pee!" (score!)  
A: "How come when I went in there once you were standing?"
E "Mom, did you hear what Aaron said?" (couldn't miss it)
E: "That's not fair that I have to clean up Aaron's pee!" (Aaron starts to laugh)
E: " See Mom!? Aaron's laughing, he knows it's his pee!" (Aaron laughs harder)
Me: "Okay, so Aaron cleans up the bathroom; Ethan you take the dishwasher and if that's all done, you can maybe stay home while I run get milk." (no argument and everything was done without complaint)

According to the chore list, Aaron is more than capable of cleaning a toilet. I've actually had both of them do it on more than one occasion in the past.  My ultimate plan with making the boys clean it is to get them to stop peeing on the seat.  Not that I think Ethan is completely innocent, but he also hasn't been here for a week so it's really not fair that he would be saddled with the job anyway and since it was last cleaned on the weekend when Ethan was already gone... well, I'm also part Sherlock Holmes.

Hunter was being difficult.  I asked him to put away one box of cereal.  He can get it himself, he knows perfectly well where it is kept. 

"Um," he begins "where does it go?"
 I humour him. "Over here in the cupboard."
He goes to the pantry. "In here?"
"No, in the cupboard over here."
"I don't know where."
"Hunter, you know where it goes, here in the cupboard."
He stops at the fridge. "In here?"
"Hunter! The cupboard where the cereal goes!"
 He stops in front of the stove. "Here?" OMG!!!
I open the cupboard. "Here, it goes in here!"
"Oh!" He says as if it's the first he's heard.

Ethan's room is a disaster.  He has bins for his lego, shelves for his books, a dresser, closet and hamper for his clothes; not that you can tell by looking around the place.  The problem is that the big jobs are overwhelming.  I get this.  I was cleaning out my closet because all my winter stuff is still easiest to reach and I had to destroy it to find golf clothes. 

So I asked him, "Do you think you could clean for two straight minutes? Not ten, not five, but only two?"
He looks at me like I'm mental. "Uh, yeah."
I take this look in stride, I did sound mental.  "What if we have a race?  You clean your room and I'll clean mine, but only for two minutes at a time. We'll see who can do it faster." 
"Yeah, okay!" He says with relative excitement.
And there you have it.  From cajoling to humouring to "spoonful of sugar": Ms. Poppins, at your service. 

Talking to My Ten and Eleven Year-Olds About Heroin

Why? Because the toxicology reports came back today and that's what killed Cory Monteith; too much heroin.  Now even when I heard it, I was like, of course he wouldn't have done it had he known it was going to be his last day.  I'm guessing here because I've never done heroin before so I have no idea if you can actually make such a sound and rational decision when you want to do heroin.

The reality is that what I and seriously way too many other parents have to do now is talk to our kids about why Finn from Glee died.  Personally, although it totally sucked, I'm not in a bad position to have this talk because I've already broached the subject of drugs.  I'm not even really sure why that was initially.  I can probably thank one of my psych classes again for making me aware of opportunities to have the type of discussion I had to have tonight.

Some of us are "lucky" in that we have a possibly shady past and recognize that our own children may be exposed to certain things earlier than others.  Such an experience enables you to have that preemptive talk.  I will leave you on the fence as to whether I fall into that category or not.  Even if I don't happen to be that person, I know people who were because I grew up in a very small town.

Like the time I took the opportunity to teach the kids about the hazardous materials signage, I have taken the opportunity to talk to my kids about stuff like drugs.  Sometimes it's not difficult, like now when a beloved actor has succumbed to the dangers.  I personally think that the most valuable information I was able to impart to Ocean tonight was that he had admitted to having a problem with substance abuse in the past. 

The reason this information was valuable is because I was able to tell her that he'd possibly done it before and it didn't hurt him.  We're always searching for the best way to protect our children from the most dangerous things out there and the end result only explains so much in a case like this.  Sure, drug use could result in death, but the reason people still take a risk is because it doesn't always.

I'm not sure if my kids will never try drugs.  I would prefer if I never had to endure a live episode of Intervention.  All I can do is try to bestow the wealth of knowledge I accumulate upon them and pray that when they say they will never do drugs they are able to turn down the opportunity when it arises.  Not if.  When. 

Rest in Peace Cory Monteith.  You taught my children to love music and song and I'm sorry this is the other thing you will teach them.

And The Wintry Wind Blew Forth

What's up now Alberta?  We've always been that place where you head out camping with winter parkas just in case it happens to snow in the middle of August.  I needed an appropriate sized golf bag that would accommodate the wind breaking pants, sweater, hoodie and wind-breaking jacket; just in case.  There have even been plenty of times out golfing where I have put a piece on, layer by layer and then stripped them each back off by the time we moved ahead four holes. 

This morning I woke to a biting cold wind.  Hunter wanted to go to the park and I had to get the mail anyway.  I dressed the kids, and myself, in long sleeves, pants and hoodies.  We hadn't made it across the road when Aaron asked why we weren't driving.  We turned up the next street and the two of them were much slower.  "Maybe we should go home!" Aaron yelled into the wind.  Noted!  So I ran up to the mailbox, only to discover it was empty and ran back to them.  Hunter asked me to carry him because he was cold. We got back to the house and I made soup.  We turned on the fireplace. We cuddled up in blankets and watched a movie.  At 12:30pm in JULY!

I truly love this province.  I love the clear skies, the mountains, the trees and the fields.  I love the fact that you can drive for miles and see only a scattering of towns which are generally quite small.  I love the view that goes on until tomorrow and the jagged edges from the silhouette of the mountains.  But what I would really love is an ounce, one small indication of a little predictability in our seasons.  I don't mind that I have to pack three seasons worth of clothing whenever we attempt a day trip, but when it is summer, actually within the summer months, could it not, for the love of Pete, feel remotely like summer EACH F-ING DAY?!

Where in northern Alberta is it soooooo cold that the wind from that direction drops the temperature below ten degrees?? I could even handle that if it wasn't possibly going to be thirty above tomorrow with nary a breeze!  I would like to set my thermostat to EITHER heat or cool!  One, two, three... breathe.

Today was not necessarily a bad day.  Aaron and Hunter played reasonably well together and I did not have to clean up any major messes to speak of.  I was able to finish all of the laundry and put it away.  I think I just wanted to be outside and it was way too cold - which made it frustrating to say the least.  Aaron was supposed to have his time at the skate park and Hunter just wanted to go to the park.  Cuddling is great, really, and I'm glad that the chores are pretty much complete so if it happens to be nice tomorrow I won't feel guilty about leaving those (not that I ever really do, I gave up a long time ago).  Neither of the boys complained at all.

It just sounds like winter out there and feels like it too.  It's only the middle of July and school supplies are already on sale.  I just want to be able to enjoy this summer with my kids.  I will enjoy winter when it gets here, I love that time of year, but I would like to get through the summer first, please.

I Think It's a Conspiracy

It all started on Friday.  Hunter freaked out and was totally not himself.  Saturday, Geoff and I took Aaron golfing and Hunter stayed with Nanas.  Aaron outdrove us once.  BOTH of us.  That was equal parts a source of shame as well as pride.  We picked Hunter up afterwards and went to Dairy Queen for some dinner.

Things were see-sawing in there.  Hunter wouldn't sit, Hunter's not listening, then food comes and he's kind of back to being himself.  He was dipping his French fry in ketchup and he starts talking: "No, no, I don't want to be in ketchup." He lifts the French fry out and stares at it. "No, I don't want to go in your mouth! Too bad!" Nom, nom, nom.  Then he starts playing around and I ask him if he needs a baby seat instead and he says yes.  Fine, I get the baby seat.  As I watched him climb up the side of it, I thought "You're too big for a high chair if you can climb into it yourself". Then he notices the buckle thing and puts it on "Now I know you're too big for a high chair if you can do that" I also think, silently attaching the tray and pushing him up to the table.

Then he goes back to normal Hunter.  He gave us a few laughs, he made Geoff laugh until he cried; normal.  Then he started acting up again. Geoff took him to the car.  Fine.  Aaron and I waited in line for his sundae and went out to the car. We started driving home.  Hunter starts talking to himself "Is that a boogie?" I turn around, he's looking at his hand. "I think that's a boogie on there." I face forward again.  Geoff doesn't carry tissues or napkins in his car.  Aaron squeals "Don't put it on me!" And I peripherally see Hunter wiping his hand on Geoff's seat.  I start to giggle and lean over to Geoff just a little "There's a boogie somewhere in your car." He looks at me and grins, "Your car is probably full of boogers." Touche.

Then Hunter threw a boot at Aaron (because Hunter is wearing rubber boots today - he likes them, I don't care).  And that's when it hit me - the conspiracy, not a boot: they've switched!! I remembered that when Ocean and Ethan were little, before Aaron was born, Ocean was my little ... terror.  Ethan was so sweet and wonderful and did everything when you asked.  He was a year younger than Ocean so I had no idea what I'd done to her.  Then Ocean went away with Nanas for two weeks on vacation.

The first day they were gone, I took Ethan to the movie store and he suddenly went all wicked! He was running around, flipping movie boxes off the shelves, hiding under racks, not listening and I was like who is this kid?!  Aaron had asked about his behaviour list for the day.  We were talking about it as he was sharing his sundae with Hunter, prior to the boot incident I think, and I complimented him on being a nice big brother.  I realized as well that there was no negative behaviours to report for the day.  And the same with Friday. 

Am I right about this I wonder?  Must there always be one kid who is designated to make Mom or Dad's (or both) life difficult?  Or could I truly be the luckiest parent in the world and be the only one who gets to lead such ... a charmed life?  I love that Aaron's behaviour actually does seem to be turning around but I did not expect Hunter to fall to pieces over it!  Can they honestly be wired this way? Maybe it's because they're all boys.  Maybe it's because they can't handle too much good.  Or maybe they just don't want to see me get all settled in my little life.  Or maybe I'm the one losing my mind.  Could be.

Rainy Day Confessions

This story began a while ago and culminated in a wonderful meeting of my children's minds.  It was the end result which I cherished so greatly and not the consequential feelings of slight embarrassment for myself.  Even at the time, I ... well I will tell you the story.

I have always had a relatively slight frame.  Not slight as in I might blow away, but slender - bordering on athletic.  If you've ever read the humourous descriptions of "athletic" they almost always centre on the lack of breast size.  I remember my mom telling me, back in the day "it took me two kids to get these", because she had boobs.  I was fairly excited about my prospects when I became pregnant with Ethan.  It was not to be. 

When I had Aaron, and then Hunter, and still was not "blessed" with a "rack", I figured it definitely was not meant to be.  I have purchased helpful bras over the years but even those only help so much - they enhance what you have.  If you have little to enhance, they are relatively useless.  One day I saw a package of gel-like "inserts".  I grabbed them.  Ocean and Ethan were with me and at one point I overheard Ocean "Hey Ethan, look at these" and I grabbed them out of her hand and threw them back in the cart with a slight admonishment.

These things were great.  They weren't super obvious and only gave a little "enhancement", but I could wear them with a sports bra and I was comfortable.  Not chesty, but not self-confident either. Over the next while, I discovered that Hunter couldn't keep his hands off them.  I would be missing one or both in the morning and would scour the house.  I wasn't sure where I needed to keep them (a drawer maybe?) so he wouldn't get hold of them.  I never put them in a drawer.

One day as I came upstairs, Ocean, Ethan and Aaron (maybe Hunter too, but he didn't get the joke so was not all that involved anyway) were sitting in the living room and Aaron was giggling.  As I looked to see what they were up to, nothing caught my eye but Aaron went ramrod straight in his chair when I appeared and so I knew something was up.  I saw nothing odd and went about my way.  Then they called me back.

"Mom," Aaron says "look at your pictures".  Maybe it was early.  I didn't get it.  "Look at your golf pictures" he giggled.  And there, over my fireplace, were my inserts - sticking to the wall.  Apparently Hunter had discovered that if you throw them at the wall, they stick.  So the kids got together and put them somewhere they thought I might see them.  I did.  Red-faced, I walked over to the fireplace and peeled them off, the kids howling the whole time.  Now I keep them in a drawer.

Oh the Horror!

I'm not sure whether today can be deemed successful or not.  Hunter is losing his mind.  On the plus side, Hunter's immense and long-lasting "I'm waaaaaay too tired to be here" tantrum scared Aaron into acting like a little angel.  Carpe Diem.

Aaron is now counting down 32 days until his game.  I am happy to report that it has been a stuggle.  That may sound contradictory but the point is that we are still going.   So maybe I'm happy to report that we are still going although it has been a stuggle.  He is still working on his plus sides and each time I have to repeat the reasoning behind this I feel that he realizes I mean it.  Or at least I hope.  There's always that.  There was only one day that ended up not counting and believe me, I was tempted... so tempted to let him have it but I warned him that he needed another plus or he wouldn't get it.  He chose not to act.  That was the third day in and I stuck it out.  I felt like crap (am I expecting too much? Should I really count the bad stuff? It's only his third day! - general self doubt like that).  We made it through unscathed.

Back to Hunter.  Since he is usually so fun and engaging and just plain sweet, today was a freaking nightmare.  He was placed in a time out twice, then he peed on Nana's front step (and some on him) and I had nothing to change him into.  So I told him we had to go home.  I carried him to my mom to say goodbye and to Nana (because he was fighting me already) and he pushed Nana away when she gave him a kiss.  Nobody treats my Nana that way.

So off to the car we went and he starts up with "I want to say goodbye!" Too late.  "I don't want to go home, I want to go to Nanas!" You peed on the step, you're going home.  He screamed the whole drive home.  Then we get to the house and he's in a huge fit now, like I'm worried huge fit.  So I'm trying to calm him down.  Singing, he freaks.  Cuddle? Don't touch me.  (This is where Aaron became worried as well)

I've never seen him like this.  He took about another half hour to calm down and by the end of it I thought he was choking - I have no idea what he did, but it looked like he was choking.  So I brought him into the kitchen, soothing voice, calming demeanor, have some water.  And he calmed down.  He didn't even sleep, just kind of fell out of the fit.  Seriously praying that never happens again. 

Geoff had a road trip today so it was just the boys and I for dinner.  The night before, Geoff had taken spicy sausages out of the freezer and I figured this meant he was hoping to eat them soon.  I forgot about the road trip - Hunter on the brain - and made those.  We sat down at 7 because I finally realized that Geoff wasn't going to be home for dinner - Hunter on the brain. 

We played our letter of the day game and since there was a shortage of players I let Aaron pick whatever letter he wanted.  He chose "H" because Hunter knows more words that "start with Hunter" (still "helicopter" was his major contribution, about four times).  Aaron says "I have one... well, I'm not sure..." and makes a face.  "It's okay, try." I tell him.  He says "Hore".  I don't even blink.  He's seven and all, but definitely not a mature 7 where I might think he's onto something. "Well, what does it mean?" My face is totally straight. "I'm not sure" he begins thoughtfully "kind of scary I guess." Well, that could have gone either way but I'd hoped when he first said it that he was going for something else. "HoRROR" I elongate for him. "Yeah, hore!" No. "HoRR-OR" I repeat.  He looks at me a little funny and says "hore-er".  Yep that will do.  And then we went to the park and Hunter and I fought some monsters.  Some days, some minutes, some hours. Some hores. 

Teaching and Learning - Another Step

This morning I was messaging Ocean.  She and Ethan are hanging out with their dad for the week so this is how we're communicating.  Not that it's incredibly different from when she's at home.  If she is downstairs, she will text me rather than come up.  I don't mind too much and if I really think about it, I would probably save my voice if I did the same thing to her.

I am a spelling whiz.  Most likely because I grew up in an era where we had the "do it yourself (and it better be right)" version of spell check.  My mom credits Sesame Street.  In either case, I am good at it and I deplore both bad grammar and bad spelling.  I was worried about my kids because they are nowhere near where I was at their age.  Granted, their French is a million times better but I was still concerned.  I remember doing the "around the world" spelling bee in grade three, on a smoking roll and having to be put out finally with "chrysanthemum".  I've never forgotten how to spell that word.

Aaron seems to be taking after me.  Every week in grade one, with their regular words, his teacher would always throw in a bonus word.  We would have a little guessing game about what those words would be.  Around St.Patrick's Day we were doing this and I was throwing out tough ones - considering his list of "gold, pot, green, hat, day". He managed "shamrock" and "clover" with relative ease and couldn't fathom "leprechaun" but gave it an admirable attempt.  He's also in English and not French since we switched schools last year.  I know it makes a difference but I honestly expect that they should have the ability.   

Ocean and Ethan have been slower since they only began to learn English in grade three.  I was annoyed when they were being taught it as well because there seemed to be little phonetic instruction.  Ethan writes quite phonetically now and he obviously has a good grasp of the sounds. His English education was pushed hard this year to catch him up though.  

During our conversation this morning, Ocean made me proud - as you can see.  Her response was, I assume, typical for an eleven-year-old but I truly was ecstatic.  There are so many expectations I have for my children; eat well, be hygenic, be well-mannered, be able to spell and use proper grammar.  I'm a huge nerd. 

When I was helping Ocean with reading I had to be creative. She hates surprises and she is also a planner (where this last part came from, I have no idea).  In order to encourage some motivation on her part I told her that if she could read, no secrets could be kept from her and punctuated this with the example of displaying my Christmas present shopping list on the refridgerator because they couldn't read. However, when Geoff's daughter came to visit and proudly read everything in sight, despite being two years younger than Oce, that proved to be more motivating than anything I had said.

Realizing that each kid is different makes it hard to adapt my parenting style.  Or maybe that's what it has to be - adaptive.  The most influential quote in my life, and I wish I would have discovered it earlier, was: "Life is not about finding yourself; it is about creating yourself" which is attributed via Google to both "unknown" and George Bernard Shaw - stupid internet.  That's okay. I'm learning to be adaptable.

All Is Well

I just got home from what may have been my last paying gig for a while. That's what I've been thinking about anyway.  Right now I'm waiting for the Nanas to return two of my boys from (I imagine) an incredibly fun day at Auntie Errin's pond/lake. I sure hope they're exhausted. 

The other night Hunter stayed up- ALL night long. I had been out for a few hours and when I got home, Geoff had only just woken up and Hunter was still sleeping.  He woke up around 11:30pm.  It wasn't the coolest thing in the world, but I had every intention of reading a book until it was finished so I had a movie on for him. Then another. And one more. I fell asleep sometime around 4:30.  Geoff woke up shortly thereafter and Hunter was still awake at 7:00. He napped for all of two hours and played and played and freaking played all day long. I had to kick him to bed at 11:00pm (again) last night. 

But I got him back. You see, I had to work today and so I got him up at 6:15am.  He complained that the sun hurt his eyes and I felt guilty. But the sun hurt my eyes too because I couldn't go to bed when I wanted to and I was very tired myself. I drove for almost seven hours today. And it's 29 degrees outside.. That's like 84.2 degrees Fahrenheit. I slapped myself twice on the way home. 

Tonight I am looking forward to... Anticipating... Desperate for a good night's sleep.  Desperately.  And I plan to wake them up again at 6:00. That's how moms do it best - tormenting them back to my kind of normal.

Book Review: Everything is Perfect When You're a Liar

I discovered Kelly Oxford quite by accident. Having been a student for the past four years, I shunned all things social media (and in the end, it seems that I needed social media more than a degree in terms of job postings.. Ahem). I happened to pick up a Maclean's magazine in May because the cover story  caught my eye. When I finally sat down to read it, I was instead enthralled by an introduction to Canada's Kelly Oxford. 

When I joined Twitter a month later, I searched for her. I had seen that she had also published a book but there wasn't much pull to read it. I didn't know much about her. Last night she held a signing at the Chapters on MacLeod Trail in Calgary and though I hummed and hawed about going, I finally got my ass in gear.  Since it was a book signing, I bought the book. 

The line-up was long and I went all introvert because I had a book in my hand. That and it seemed as if I was the only one who hadn't read it already. I was two chapters in by the time I got to the front and forgot all the questions I'd wanted to ask. I could hardly wait to open it up again. I got home and did just that, reading until the  early morning hours.

Maybe I should go out of my way to read more non-fiction from people my age because it was like a time capsule opened up. I was flooded with memories of my own childhood and junior/senior high. Maybe too because there were some startling similarities with my own life. 

Even though the book is a memoir, it's mostly written in the third person. She doesn't just tell you a story full of memories, she places you in the moment with the conversation and thoughts of a child, a young girl, and then a woman. You forget that she's just reiterating what happened in her life because you are right there with her. 

You feel the unconditional support her parents gave her.  You feel the strength in her convictions when she stands up for herself or when she is making up a story about needing bladder surgery to explain why, at fourteen, she has totally just peed her pants in a public place.  You admire the quick thinking and hope you'd be able to come up with something half as good if it happened to you.

I had some envy towards her seemingly unlimited confidence, like when she decides to try and find Leonardo DiCaprio in LA and books the trip. She appears fearless (and I'm definitely going to get Ocean to read her book) but the running mom commentary reminds you that she does know fear, she just learned to trust her instincts and is not afraid to act.  And you can't wait to find out what will happen when she finally meets him - rooting for her all the way. 

If you're a parent you will love the drive to return to school in case she becomes a single mother due to James' possibly impending demise. Her ability to work the what if scenario into a joke makes it so much more empowering. It's more than smart. 

I cringed at her eventual choice though. Considering the somewhat whimsical events of her past, she is able to describe in heartwrenching detail that is out of her witty and confident element why it was not for her (and most of us) either.  And for the first time you're less envious of what she's experienced. 

I had personally hoped to read a little more about her struggles with writing but she only briefly touches on that subject.  It only comes up once and you immediately understand why you don't read more about it- it's a confidence shattering desire before you've begun to do it- even for her. 

Upon finishing, you will hopefully take away from it what I did: don't give up, take some risks, and above all, find the comedic in the shittiest moments and the scariest thoughts. Sometimes the tears that ensue are the result of laughing so hard.