Oct 20

Avery got her ears pierced last week. This probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to most people. But if you know my daughter you know she is pretty much vehemently opposed to being punctured. Period.

She has never been the type that you have to drag kicking and screaming into the doctor’s office for her vaccinations or flu shot. Instead, she frets quietly, working herself into a private mental frenzy. Almost more heartbreaking than a physical outburst is the obvious terror on her face and the clear mental agony and the tears squeezing out of the corners of her eyes as she prepares for these kinds of shots.

So ever since she learned about the possibility of ear piercing she was 100% committed to never allow such violence to be perpetrated on her earlobes. I was content with that. I figured at some point she’d probably change her mind but I certainly didn’t feel the need to try and convince her otherwise.

And then, in what we’ve come to recognize as Avery’s way, she came from school one day and out of nowhere announced she wanted her ears pierced. After seeing there are some fun things about wearing earrings, and I guess a little bit of peer envy, she decided she was willing to put herself through the ordeal of getting the piercing done.

I did some research about piercing options in our area and on the advice of several friends I realized that there is a very strong case for doing piercing with a needle as opposed to the “gun” that a lot places use these days. Cleaner, safer, and less painful. But how to convince Avery that a needle would be better than the gun when she is terrified of needles? Riiiight.

You know those moments when you just couldn’t be more proud of your child for one reason or another? I had a moment when I watched her face her fear of needles and bravely sit herself down in that chair and allow someone to violate her earlobes! I don’t know if it’s the earrings or the maturity that I saw in her when she got them, but she looks so much older to me!

Sep 15

It’s the first time in seven years that I am sending both of them away for at least a couple of hours a week and all I find myself thinking about is how she is now old enough to stay up late reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

And how he is so innocent and earnest in his desire to be good and how well he listens and tries his very hardest.

And how she just wants to be friends with everyone and is still so very enthusiastic about school. Being misunderstood is life’s greatest tragedy. She’s so much like me, it’s scary.

And how he is somehow old enough to be in preschool and still, adorably, uses words like “growmup” (grown-up) and “packpack” (backpack).

And my goodness, where did the summer go?

Aug 5

I have to admit something. No, not admit. I must acknowledge something. Something I’ve been trying to deny for some time. But I can deny it no longer. The facts have become too blatant to ignore. It’s staring me right in the face on an almost daily basis.

My daughter is an inappropriate laugher.

You know the type. I bet there are even a few of you reading this right now who knowing exactly what I’m talking about. People who, despite their good intentions or futile attempts at self-control, start to chuckle, chortle, giggle, snicker, guffaw or otherwise cackle during intense and completely inappropriate moments. For some inappropriate laughers it’s solemn occasions such as funerals, graduations, or religious services. The somber atmosphere combined with nervous tension seems to breed giggling. For others it’s awkward conversations. When debating or arguing they simply dissolve into laughter.

For my daughter, it’s scolding. Whenever she catches it for misbehaviour her eyes get wide and she attempts to look appropriately contrite, but before we know it she bursts into giggles, accompanied by a half crazed, half horrified look that says she knows her laughter is inappropriate but she can’t control it.

It’s really hard to give a kid heck when they are laughing uncontrollably.

I guess there are worse qualities for a person to possess. Here’s hoping she outgrows it before the first time she gets caught passing a note in class!

Jul 12

Ever have one of those nightmares where someone says “Hey! Is that your kid up there?” and you look over and your child is doing something incredibly dangerous and stupid?Me either.*

*I realize she isn’t that high. This is a recreation of actual events and she is only as high as I would let her climb for the purposes of a blog post photo. In reality, my kid was about her body’s length from the flag when I was alerted to the situation. OMG!

Jun 24

My daughter quite enjoys drawing and we, like most parents, are frequently in danger of drowning in a flood of “artwork”. So I thought taking pictures of some of her latest drawings was a good way to overcome the guilt of regularly throwing her precious creations in the recycling bin. But it turns out that I am a really awful person and the more I looked at these drawings, the funnier they became. So I decided to do the logical thing and share them with the internet. (Dear Grown-up Avery, I apologize. This is way out of line.)

But really, you guys need to see these!

This is meant to be Batman. During her brother’s recent Batman obsession Avery began drawing pictures of the beloved superhero for her brother. The hubby has taken to calling him Captain Cannabis as the emblem on his chest almost always comes out looking more like a marijuana leaf than a bat. No wonder Batman isn’t ashamed to be seen in public in satin underpants and a plastic utility belt! A lot of things seem logical when you are high as a kite!

Awwww…a child’s tribute to diversity! Isn’t that touching? We are all different in our world. That is, where different means we all carry Canadian (Cannabis, again) flags and are blond and blue-eyed. Well, I guess the fellow on the left is a little different – he only has one eye. We need to accept all kinds of lifestyle choices, people!

Nothing says Teacher appreciation like “You are the #1 best teacher I’ve ever had! At least, so far. I mean I’m only in grade 1 so it could get better than you. But you were really the best of the two teachers I’ve had so far!”

I find this picture extremely disturbing and I can’t really put my finger on the reason. Perhaps the overwhelming need of all these inanimate objects to introduce themselves. Or the inherent irrationality of introducing themselves as what they are? It’s like me saying “Hi! I am woman!” A little off, no?

This picture hung happily on our fridge for quite some time before a family friend was over and ruined it by asking if our daughter had drawn Buzz Lightyear in an anatomically correct way? I’m almost certain the – erm-object on Buzz’ belt is meant to be a tiny rocket ship. But it certainly does look somewhat…inappropriate, doesn’t it? Also, Buzz appears to have a caterpillar for a nose. And Jessie has something questionable going on in her belt-buckle region as well. Oh. My.

Jun 7

Dear Avery,

In the last week you learned to ride your bike without training wheels. I can’t tell you how proud I was to see you finally get the hang of it. You’ve been working on it for a couple of summers now and there was more than one day when you cried in frustration and at least one day when you insisted you would never be able to do it. So when you were finally able to get going on that bike the victory in your face was pure joy for both of us. I’m not ashamed to say I shed a tear or too when you finally got it.

Every day you take another step away from me. You began by riding your bike up and down the sidewalk in front of our house and the house next door.  You soon graduated to going up and down the sidewalk the full length of the street. But before long that wasn’t far enough. You began to beg to go around the block alone. This is something we’ve never let you do for several reasons. First, your sense of direction is not yet that great. Second, we live on a fairly large, and not exactly rectangular block. Third, the last time I walked around the block with you allowing you to “lead the way” you would have made half a dozen wrong turns and ended up somewhere across the river if I hadn’t been there to keep you on the right path. But, after biking around the block with Daddy once, I finally relented and gave my permission for you to go around the block by yourself. Once.

Every day you take another step away from me. In a few minutes you were back and breathless and triumphant. “I didn’t fall once!” you told me excitedly. “Can I go again?” So you went again. And again. And again and again and again. The next day you went at it again. Yesterday you must have gone around the block 25 or 30 times.

Every day you take another step away from me. Independence is addictive. You are now hooked on the sweet taste of freedom and I would be a fool not to recognize that there is no turning back. I thought walking was independence. Then I thought being potty-trained was independence. And then I thought starting school was really truly independence because you would be off all day doing things without me. But this really feels like IT. For the first time you can take yourself places under your own power. Of course we have rules about where and when you can take off but suddenly this whole new world has opened up to you and there’s no going back and you are stepping away from me again.

This independence thing is hard for me. As much as I want to always keep you within eyesight I am forcing myself to keep practicing letting you go because the satisfaction and pride in your eyes when you succeed feels marginally better than wrapping you in bubble wrap and holding you close to keep you from getting hurt. But I’m not going to lie, I am not loving this.

Every day you take another step away from me and even though I don’t like it and I want to keep you close, I couldn’t be prouder when I watch you go. I love you sweet girl.

Love,
Mommy

Mar 18

My friends, I was overcome! Overcome, I tell you! I found this tutorial to make no-sew tutu and I couldn’t resist because not only is it the cutest thing EVER, it is also the easiest thing ever! A project that appeals to both my vanity and my laziness all wrapped up in a quick and fantastic craft that made my daughter ecstatic. The result:

Tadaaa!!!!

Couldn’t you just die?

A close-up. There are some ribbons to spice it up a bit.

Truly, this project was so easy I may start making them as gifts for other little girls we know. I had enough left over from the first one to make a slightly smaller one. I think I could make a lovely one with less tulle than I used in the first tutu – I packed the tulle really tight so it would be extra poofy, but even half of what I put on would probably still make a sufficiently poofy skirt. So there you have it. You have the recipe for a fast, easy and relatively inexpensive craft that is guaranteed to make a little girl in your life happy. You’re welcome!

Mar 13

Not too long ago I was overcome with the need to do something crafty. The compulsion to craft comes and goes with me but when it happens it must not be denied. It has taken many forms (because I am unable to fully commit to any specific form of crafting) over the years and most recently I decided to take my sewing machine out for a test drive.

I have had my sewing machine since my Oma passed away 8 years ago. But it has only been used occasionally and very infrequently for genuine sewing projects. The machine is easily 50 years old and it punished me for neglecting it by chewing up thread and spitting it out in a tangled disaster that could not really be called “sewing”. Before Christmas I was contemplating how much longer I could keep the old girl around when she was no longer co-operating with me. But I was told that old machines could often be salvaged with a simple tune-up.

Lo and behold the old girl is back and she works like a charm. So when I was compelled to direct my creative juices towards a specific project, I decided to attempt to sew a dress for Avery. Can you believe the arrogance?? Because I can sew a straight line I thought that I somehow possessed the ability to decipher the ridiculously complicated hieroglyphics in a sewing pattern and somehow translate that into an actual garment! Complete madness!!!

I started out all peppy and excited about the project and managed to assemble all the right materials despite a very much less than helpful fabric store clerk who insisted I needed less material than I had interpreted according to the back of the pattern. After I explained sloooowly half a dozen times, what was clearly shown on the pattern I was able to get what I needed (Dear Fabricland Clerk, YOU are supposed to KNOW what you are DOING!!! Thanks for nothing!).

After bringing all the materials home I did just exactly what you would expect. I got right to work like a busy little beaver I shoved it all in a cupboard and ignored it for several weeks.

I did eventually muster up the guts to open up the pattern. After looking it over for a bit I concluded I needed an engineering or architecture degree to decipher the directions. So I did just exactly what you would expect. I studied the directions until I figured out how to begin I shoved it all back in the cupboard again.

After some time and several handfuls of xanaks I was able to fudge my way through and although I think it probably wasn’t completed quite according to the specifications (how is it possible for a simple dress like this to have twenty pieces???), it turned out all right.

Avery questions my choice of fabrics, she’s not sure if they “match” but accepted it because it is primarily pink and she can’t resist pink. What do you think?

The hubby says it reminds him of the dresses Maria sews from curtains for the Von Trapp children in The Sound of Music. I’m not sure yet if this is a compliment or criticism.

And now the sewing machine and I are going to take a little break from each other and see if we still want to work together in a few months. Or maybe next winter. We’ll see how long it takes.

Dec 11

Avery has not even lost her first tooth and the whole ordeal has been completely traumatizing already. Her first loose tooth showed up around Thanksgiving. It was a much anticipated event and she wasted no time. She talked constantly about what it would be like to finally have lost a tooth! I’m not sure what exactly she is expecting but she’s pretty sure it’s going to be magical. The tooth fairy stuff sounds pretty good to her, too.

Alas, we are two months past the initial excitement and only JUST getting to the point where the tooth could be considered almost loose enough to pull. Is it just me or is that a REALLY long time? (Oh yes, for my American friends, when I said her tooth became loose at Thanksgiving I meant Canadian Thanksgiving which was the second Monday in October).  I remember it taking a few days or a week for a loose tooth to come out when I was a child. This is bordering on absurd.

Back to the trauma…it’s the pulling that’s scarring us all. We’ve now tried to pull it about half a dozen times with no success. We seem to be failing at one of the central tenets of parenthood – the tooth extraction. The hubby manages to elicit great sobbing wails every time he makes an attempt – usually because he is trying to pull out her gums and not just the tooth. I do not seem to cause as much agony but perhaps that’s just because I’m not pulling hard enough? Or maybe we have jumped the gun altogether and are attempting to pull the tooth prematurely? Regardless, the result is TRAUMA.

At the rate we are going she’ll still just start losing teeth as she enters high school. And nothing says “Ridicule me” like a 14 year old missing her two front teeth. I can hear it now: “My name ith Avery and I am thuper exthited to be thtarting high thchool!”

If you’re looking for me, I’ll be researching reputable therapists in the area. I’m sure Avery is going to have a lot to talk about.

Sep 1

Once again it’s been a long time since the last post. I know you’ll forgive me for not posting from the road.

We have finally reached our destination and today we took possession of our new (to us) house. The renos have already begun and so much is happening my head is spinning. Today was also Avery’s first full day of grade one and I am looking forward to picking her up and hearing all about it.  I wish I had the brainpower to write these mundane updates in a witty and fascinating way, but I just don’t.  Pictures coming soon, if the moving truck shows up with our stuff. Here’s hoping! Cheers!

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